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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25853071">The Peculiar Nature (of Identity)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/startabby/pseuds/startabby'>startabby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Incredible Challenges (of Tony Stark) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Panther (2018), Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, For Want of a Nail, Gen, M/M, Revenge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:09:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>74,849</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25853071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/startabby/pseuds/startabby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What truly defines a man, the scope of his tragedies, the strength of his convictions, or perhaps, the impact that he has on the lives of others? As Tony Stark faces life after an escape from unjust betrayal, he must find the answer to this question. Will his need for vengeance color everything in his life, or will new passions, new allies, and even new love help him grow into a better man?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kaecilius (Marvel)/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Incredible Challenges (of Tony Stark) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Minions' writings</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Story Art & a reminder of "What Came Before"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story was originally posted as part of the 2020 Quantum Bang (http://quantumbang.org/) and completed as part of that challenge's structure.<br/>As such, it is considered to be a Fix-It fic, with the focus for this part of the overall series wrapped around certain characters from <em>Doctor Strange</em> and <em>Black Panther</em>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Story Art</h1><p>Provided by the fabulous KliqzAngel (SpencnerTibbsLuvr) as part of the Quantum Bang 2020 challenge.</p>
<h2>Cover</h2><p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<h2>Cast Pictures</h2><p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<h1>What Came Before:</h1><p>This is a direct sequel to <em>The Insidious Growth (of Betrayal).</em> As a result, there are a few things to keep in mind if you are jumping in without reading that story or haven't read it in a while and want to remind yourself of where we stand. </p><p><br/>
1.<em> The Insidious Growth (of Betrayal)</em> starts with Tony's escape from the Ten Rings (mostly matched to canon).</p><p>2. It takes a dramatic swing into an extreme AU when, instead of attacking Tony as he does at the end of Iron Man, Obadiah Stane instead arranges for him to be imprisoned by SHIELD. He tells the world that the Stark CEO had a nervous breakdown, which allows Stane to reclaim the control of Stark Industries that he had lost when Tony came of age.</p><p>3. As part of the cover-up, both Pepper and Happy were killed on HYDRA's orders by the Winter Soldier, just like Tony’s parents had been over a decade before.</p><p>4. James Rhodes, who is unaware of what really happened to Tony and the others, becomes the Iron Soldier under Obadiah Stane's management, and thus takes on Iron Man's canon role within the Avengers.</p><p>4. Also, the nation of Wakanda, and specifically Nakia of the River Tribe, are established as Tony's allies before his imprisonment. They are kept in the dark about what really happened to our hero, though they have their suspicions.</p><p>5. Once inside SHIELD's prison, the Sandbox, Loki is revealed as Tony’s fellow prisoner. He had been in the covert organization's custody, without full access to his magic, since the 90s.</p><p>6. During their years of shared imprisonment, Loki began to train Tony in the arts of Magic, taking him on as an Apprentice Sorcerer.</p><p>7. Now, the new story picks right where the first one left off, with Master Sorcerer Loki and his Apprentice Tony escaping from SHIELD’s unlawful custody during the chaos of HYDRA's big reveal.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TW: Due to the fact that half of this story is based in the African nation of Wakanda, parts of it may reflect certain current events in our world today. This includes references to the Los Angeles, California race riots in the early 1990s as part of a character’s backstory. Such references may be triggering for some readers, so please read responsibly.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. An Unexpected Visitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: the Ancient One, Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>An Unexpected Visitor</h1><p>
  
</p><hr/><p>The smell of snow still lingered in the air, reaching beyond the ever-present smog that clouded the skies over the city of Kathmandu, as well as the hidden fortress of Kamar Taj that sat at its heart. The lingering snow was in clear defiance of the fact that spring had already reached the mountain valley, along with the surrounding Himalayan mountainsides. Pockets of green poked up here and there through the snow, the sign of the approaching warmer weather.</p><p>From their position on an upper balcony, the Ancient One had full access to the sights and scents of their centuries-long home. Breathing in deeply, they embraced the contrasting scents that reached them on the winds. As they did so, they fell into the trance-like state needed to reach beyond their body and into the realm of the mind, the Astral Plane.</p><p>In direct contrast to the peace that they found in their home when the Ancient One reached the Astral Plane turbulence roiled. The very framework of the multiverse was filled with disturbances, as eddies formed and collapsed in random patterns across innumerable surfaces. While they were accustomed to the fractals; the human brain’s way of processing this extra-worldly place, this was something very different.</p><p>Even though the Convergence was now a half-year past, the ripples of its passing were still being felt on these other-worldly planes. For those like themselves, who relied on the Mystic Arts to guide their path, such an imposition on their normally stable foundation was profoundly unsettling. Not only that, but the waves also wreaked a merry havoc on their skills in the area of precognition – a perception of various possible futures and their relative likelihoods.</p><p>It appeared that somehow, instead of fading as the Ancient One had expected from the stories told of previous Convergences, the fluctuations that it had brought to the multiverse had instead continued to grow and propagate. As such, their normally consistent updates to the probabilistic future had grown unreliable. While the Ancient One was still granted glimpses of the future, they had lost the ability to map out the evolving likelihoods of the various permutations which they witnessed.</p><p>Futures that had long been inevitable grew hesitant. Fates which they had assumed immutable had formed divergent paths. Even their own, long-anticipated, moment of death had become uncertain. At the heart of the confusion lay a new player on the scene; one whose very existence had the potential to change the fate of the Universe.</p><p>
  <em>But who could it be? An unknown Sorcerer emergent here on Earth, or someone from Beyond? And how were they connected to the Order?</em>
</p><p>For from the glimpses that they had managed to extract from the chaos, it was clear that the stranger would be deeply tied to the future of the Order of the Mystic Arts. There were too many established members of the Order present in their visions at the stranger’s side for it to be any other way.</p><p>The appearance of the stranger did not match the man that the Ancient One had seen would be their successor in the role of Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme, the man known as Doctor Strange. Instead, the man in their visions utilized magics that were beyond the limits of the Order.</p><p>His early training must have come from another Sorcerer, one not of the Earth.  While there were strands of gold, the color of the Magic which they and their Order utilized, threaded through the Magic of the man in their vision, there were other colors as well. They saw hints of deep, emerald green and, overwhelmingly, a vibrant, almost neon blue, centered on the man’s sternum.</p><p><em>It was beautiful, </em>the Ancient One admitted, <em>that blue, and strangely compelling to Mage Sight. I can see how it might draw in my people.</em></p><p>Kaecilius and his acolytes were an unsurprising, if interesting, presence. Before the Convergence had disturbed their visions, they had seen their former apprentice fall into madness, turning to the forbidden arts and Dormammu’s seductive grasp in an attempt to circumvent death. Indeed, they had known for decades that Kaecilius’ fall would start the dominoes that led to their final fate. But now, it seemed that the stranger had somehow turned their apprentice away from his once-certain path to destruction.</p><p>In the scattered visions, there was a new softness in Kaecilius’ face; along with a steadiness that replaced the madness that had begun to grow. It made the Ancient One hopeful that the Order would avoid the great and terrible schism that they had long assumed to be inevitable.</p><p>But Kaecilius and his people were not the only companions that the Ancient One saw within their visions of the stranger. Amongst those from their Order who they had glimpsed in the stranger’s orbit were some who shocked them. Men and women like Wong, who the Ancient One was certain would remain loyal to the Order’s eternal mission as long as he lived, could also be seen in some of the visions. It gave them hope that the Order’s ability to follow its mandate of protecting the Earth from Mystic threats, both from within and without, would be stronger than ever in this new future that they had glimpsed. </p><p>Beyond the Order, outsiders also appeared in their visions of the mysterious Sorcerer, some more prevalent than others.</p><p>They saw many Black faces, including those who bore the blessing of Bast, the Panther Goddess of the African nation of Wakanda. While the Ancient One did not know the full breadth of that multi-planar entity’s powers, they had come in contact with a handful of the nation’s protectors, the Black Panthers, over the centuries. They knew that such men and women were indeed allies worthy of great respect.</p><p>Then, there was a scattering of men and women who glowed from within, as if composed of fire, looking like dragons in human form. Those so powered appeared to follow another, one who shared their glow and sense of caged menace. Unlike the others, these powered ones sometimes appeared as allies and sometimes as adversaries of the central Sorcerer.</p><p>There was a massive green beast, one who they recognized from the fight in New York City. In some of the visions, he appeared beside a woman radiating stress and grief, while in others she was replaced by a broken man, whose eyes and skin would occasionally take on the same green hue as the beast.</p><p>And that was only the tip of the spear.</p><p>They saw many others, some dressed in military fatigues, others in casual garments from East and West alike, all professing their loyalty to this pivotal character. There were even those who remained unseen, the only hint of their presence coming in the form of voices that carried accents from the principalities that now made up what had once been the nation of the Ancient One’s youth.</p><p>Hanging in the background, not physically present but central to the stranger’s being, was another surprising but familiar presence. The Jotunn Seidrmadr and Prince of Asgard and Jotunheim; their old friend Loki.</p><p>The sight of that familiar Sorcerer cleared up one question about the stranger. Given the hints of the emerald that they now recalled was Loki’s signature, he was probably the stranger’s first teacher.</p><p>
  <em>But with Loki’s complicated personality and history, what kind of man would his apprentice be?</em>
</p><p>The Ancient One sighed as they released their stress and worry out into the multiverse. There was nothing further that they could do right now. Instead, they must be patient and wait. The Fates would reveal themselves in time, of that they were certain.</p><p>Opening their eyes, they reoriented themselves back into the physical world, one sense at a time.</p><p>First came vision; as they focused upon a bit of greenery in the cracks between stones on the wall. The second was smell; they caught a whiff of the incense that burned in a nearby censor. Taste came along with it, as the spice of the incense hit the back of their throat. Next came touch. They felt the hard surface of the stone through the cramps of a body protesting the extended period in a fixed position. And finally, there was sound, the echoes of the wind howling through the nearby mountains.</p><p>With the ease of long practice, the Ancient One unfolded out of the comfortable tailor’s seat that they had chosen for their meditation. Shaking out multiple layers of pale robes in the traditional style of the Order, they stood, drinking in the tranquility all around them. Down in the courtyard that stood below their perch, similarly robed initiates trained in unison, the gold of their sling rings glinting in the sunlight. The elegance of their movements made an excellent complement to the flickering runic shapes of their still-developing Magic.</p><p>Their leader in the exercise, in dark robes, was one of the Masters whom the Ancient One had just been contemplating. Kaecilius prowled through the lines of acolytes, correcting the angle of one’s arm; praising another. His students were more than eager to learn from the experienced Master Sorcerer.</p><p>Having watched generations of budding Sorcerers go through the same training, the sight was a soothing reminder. The Order had survived times of uncertainty in the past. This latest challenge would be no different. And perhaps it would even be a good thing, to shake up an organization that had grown a bit too comfortable in its routines.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed that their meditative contemplations had been well-timed.</p><p>A few hours after they had left the balcony overlooking the main courtyard and returned to their office to work, they heard an unexpected ‘knock’ at one of the side doors into the fortress. One of the Order’s long-time allies, or at least an individual associated with an ally, had come calling.</p><p>Unlike the main entrance in Kathmandu, the side doors into Kamar Taj did not exist in the mundane world. Instead, they were portals that required Mage Sight at minimum to access or even recognize. This particular door, located in the depths of the Afghan mountains, was a rare choice for Earth-bound Mages. Instead, its remote location and nature as a weak spot between dimensions made it an obvious entry for non-terrestrial allies to use when visiting.</p><p>To the Ancient One’s surprise, the exact makeup of the knocker’s Magical signature was unfamiliar. There was a trace of the same snow-scent that they had caught during their earlier meditation, the sign of a Jotunn sorcerer, but it was mixed with something else. A trace of oil and metal, and the grounded earthiness that was characteristic of those Sorcerers who carried Terrestrial ancestry.</p><p>To top it all off, the mysterious sorcerer’s signature carried an unambiguous feeling of banked rage. It was clear that their visitor had been wronged quite dramatically in the past, and was deeply determined to seek out revenge. Given the strength of Magic and Will that they could sense, the Ancient One could only hope that those who had wronged the Mage truly deserved the depths of his fury. They knew from experience that the wrath of Mage could be a dangerous and terrifying thing to behold.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, the Ancient One reached out with their Magic. Using familiar motions, they activated the portal. It was time to greet their visitor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Strong Refuge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The first two chapters are mostly there to set the stage; here is where the real story begins.<br/><em>Note that the format for this story is to alternate between a Tony Point-of-View chapter and a non-Tony Point-of-View chapter, with each of the non-Tony chapters having a different character providing the perspective.</em></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Strong Refuge</h1><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>From the depth of his core, Tony Stark gathered up another thread of power. Even as he did so, he had to suppress a snort.</p><p>Despite the time training with his mentor Loki in the depths of the Sandbox’s most secret prison, the very concept of a Magical Core still felt utterly ridiculous to his long-standing scientific mindset. But by now there was no denying its presence. Instead, it had become another part of the whole that made up the man born Anthony Edward Stark, son of Howard and Maria.</p><p>Genius, Inventor, Billionaire, Philanthropist, Playboy, and one-time Merchant of Death; with all that he had gone through in recent years, all of those titles felt somehow hollow. Now, he was much more attached to other, more recent titles. Prisoner. Victim of Untold Betrayals. Escapee. And, most significantly at that moment, Apprentice Sorcerer.</p><p>Using the thread of power that he had gathered from his core, Tony pushed it outwards, into the palm of his hand. Then, he stretched out that hand and knocked. Of course, the knock wasn’t exactly physical. Instead, Tony used a technique that he had first learned as a way to build strength and control. The process of reaching into his core and pulling out a single thread required a great deal of focus and precision, while the effort of pushing it outward beyond oneself was like flexing a muscle.</p><p>When Loki had originally set him on the practice, it had reminded Tony of when Rhodey had taken him to the gym shortly after their meeting at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The older teen had suggested the practice as a way for Tony to burn through the excess, sometimes manic, energy that the boy struggled to control. Loki’s lessons had served much the same purpose. Each <em>push </em>was like a single rep, lifting a weight and burning a discrete quantity of energy.</p><p>So, it was with the ease of frequent practice that he followed the steps of the exercise. Only this time, instead of <em>pushing</em> the power in a random direction, he directed it towards the heart of the portal that stood nearby. In this case, the movement of his hand and arm acted as a guide for the magic.</p><p>Located near the rear of the cavern where he now stood, it was this portal that had brought him and his teacher deep in the desolate mountains of Afghanistan far from any human habitation after the escape from SHIELD custody.</p><p>While Loki was the one who had given Agent Barton, their surprising SHIELD ally, directions to the cavern, his actions had been taken with Tony’s full agreement. The older mage had informed his apprentice about the portal back when the possibility of escape had been nothing more than a shared, distant dream, and now that tale had become much more valuable.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It had come up after one of Loki’s infrequent episodes, the consequence of the shackles that kept the experienced Sorcerer from using his magic to escape their shared prison. Despite his best efforts, sometimes the Jotunn’s innate magic would flare in an attempt to fight against the siphon which held him captive. When that happened, the insidious curse would ‘punish’ such an attempt with a response that Tony likened to being hit with a massive electric shock. As the older man lay on his cell’s pallet, his body still suffering from mild spasms of aftershocks, he had addressed his Apprentice. Tony knew that Loki's words were an attempt to distract him, as the older Sorcerer didn't want his friend to fret over miseries that were out of his control. Still, he couldn't help but focus on his teacher's words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Should you one day make an escape from this place and find yourself in need of a haven, you should seek out the Masters of the Mystic Arts. In their home, Kamar Taj, you will find rest and healing from all ills. Their leader is a powerful Sorcerer known as the Ancient One, and has been my ally and friend for many centuries.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You mean when WE-“ Tony had already begun to reply before he caught up to what Loki had just said, “wait, centuries? Does that mean traveling to another world? It’s not like we Earthgardians can live that long, not like your people, Lightning McQueen.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That may be true for most Midgardians,” Loki answered, “but not all. Kamar Taj and its Order are a human organization, based here on your Earth. For humanity is not always limited to a mere century of years. The powers which the Masters of the Mystic Arts tap into can carry with them certain privileges. Among these is the ability to extend one’s life span.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I see,” Tony had said, his mind already awhirl with the possibilities. “Then, does that mean?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Aye... like those in the Order, your lifespan is not limited to a single century, not if you make the choice to extend it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then is that why you’re so-?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No,” Loki replied. “All of my race is similarly long-lived, not just our Sorcerers. It is one of the reasons that your ancestors once worshipped mine as gods.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I see,” Tony said absently, already considering the implications of an extended lifespan. Experiments that he’d been reluctant to explore because they would take decades to yield results now suddenly became worth investigating. Was this why Loki was so nonchalant about spending more than a decade in SHIELD’s hands? Because it was such a small fraction of his overall lifespan?  Could HE ever become similarly blasé when it came to the passage of time?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>At the time, his racing thoughts had been enough to distract Tony from the original thrust of the discussion, along with his mentor’s current debilitation. Exactly as Loki had intended, he had realized when he had a chance to regroup.</p><p>Tony would never admit it out loud, but it was these little acts of kindness that reassured him that, unlike Stane, this mentor would never betray him so callously. This was because, for all of Obie’s avuncular care, his kindness had always come with a price tag.</p><p><em>You owe me this favor, Tony my boy, </em>was Obie’s favorite phrase for a reason. </p><p>In contrast, Loki’s small kindnesses were always done surreptitiously and never brought up afterward.</p><p> </p><p>Now, Loki had picked up the threads of his original statement later that same day, once the worst of the side effects of his involuntary seizure had ended. At that point, he explained that Kamar Taj and the rest of the Order’s dwellings existed in a sort of pocket realm, spaces that were anchored on Earth while maintaining layers beyond the Mundane plane.</p><p>With his knowledge of Midgardian navigation, Loki was even able to provide his Apprentice with human-comprehensible directions.  These were a set of latitude and longitude coordinates; the same ones that Loki had just used to guide the stolen SHIELD Quinjet’s flight. He had also warned Tony that the portal to the refuge of Kamar Taj, when closed, would be invisible to all but those who possessed Mage Sight.</p><p>Tony did hope that his unexpected new ally, Barton, would prove trustworthy, keeping the secret of their escape from his leaders. But even if he wasn’t, or if someone managed to hack the Quinjet’s black box, it wouldn’t matter. Whatever happened with the portal, Tony had no intention of remaining in this cavern for more than a few hours.</p><p>Either Loki’s guidance would prove true and they would find safe refuge with his allies, or Tony would take his comatose mentor and set out to find his version of help. Regardless, SHIELD (or HYDRA) would have no way of knowing the truth about this place, not without a friendly mage on hand.</p><p>That thought made Tony snort.</p><p>From the thrust of Loki’s interrogations, even in the aftermath of the Convergence, SHIELDRA was still in the dark about the true power of magic. Instead, they dismissed it in favor of more <em>scientific</em> rationale, much as Tony would have before his Apprenticeship.</p><p>Besides, even if they did manage to track Tony and Loki this far, he knew that they would probably misunderstand his reasons for seeking out such a remote site. They would probably assume that it had something to do with his past captivity in the hands of the Ten Rings, perhaps a contact or a resource that Yinsen had shared before his death.</p><p> </p><p>Once the Quinjet had taken off and Tony got a chance to explore their location with his Mage Sight engaged, it didn’t take him long to recognize that part of Loki-doki’s tale was true. There was indeed a portal present in the heart of the otherwise ordinary cavern. Its surface glimmered with gold, a hazy wash across the rough stone wall. When he had brushed his Magic against it, the signature also matched the one which the Old Man had passed along.</p><p>With all of that in mind, he had decided to trust in his mentor’s promises. The portal would lead both him and the comatose Jotunn to a safe refuge. So he had reached out and knocked.</p><p>
  <strong>Once.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Twice.</strong>
</p><p>Now, for a third time in as many minutes, Tony reached deep into his core. Wrapping another, thicker, coil of power around his arm, he prepared for another knock. But before he could do so, he saw the portal change.</p><p>To his mage senses, its surface began to ripple as if it was a pond and someone had tossed a pebble into its center. Meanwhile, the portal also began to spit out golden sparks, which were actually visible to the mundane eye. The sparks grew to outline an oval roughly the size of a normal door. Through the opening at their center, Tony caught a glimpse of a space very different from the rock wall of the cavern. It was a room, constructed of polished wooden timbers and furnished with Asian decor. But before he could examine it in further detail, his view was blocked by a figure stepping through the now open portal.</p><p>The person – <em>woman?</em> – who appeared in the cavern was dressed in layered, flowing robes of saffron, with what little he could see of her body through the robes having an ambiguous, nearly androgynous quality about it. The robes that she wore reminded Tony of Jedi robes with their layers and East Asian wrapped style a direct contrast to her milky-pale skin. Her similarity to a fictional Jedi master was furthered by her aura. She possessed a sense of age and serenity that emanated out from her being, impinging on Tony’s mage senses.</p><p>As she folded down the hood of her robe, revealing pale skin and, startlingly, a bald head, she spoke.</p><p>To his surprise, instead of some foreign language, she greeted him in clear, if accented, English.</p><p>“Blessed Greetings to you, young one,” she said, her words formal. “I am known as the Ancient One, Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme.”</p><p>“Oh, um… Hi…”</p><p>
  <em>What was he supposed to say?</em>
</p><p>Behind his visitor, he noticed that the portal had begun to close, returning to its previous, quiescent state.</p><p>“Might I enquire your business with the Order of the Mystic Arts?” She asked again, politely, walking towards him with a smooth yet confident air.</p><p> “Oh, sorry,” he replied, scrambling for any ideas.</p><p>
  <em>How did you address an actual human Wizard?</em>
</p><p>Normally he’d be reaching for a joke, probably about her lack of hair, but that didn’t feel right.  So, calling both on his early childhood training in manners and the self-control that he had earned the hard way during his time in captivity; Tony leaned forward in a careful bow.</p><p>“My name is Anthony, a lowly Apprentice to the Master Mage Loki Silvertongue. My Master and I come seeking shelter from those who would do us harm.”</p><p>Waving one arm, he gestured back towards the front of the cavern, where the Jotunn sorcerer lay comatose. Loki was still resting on the stretcher that Tony had used to remove him from the Quinjet.</p><p>“Ah.” Without another word, his new acquaintance brushed past him and hurried over to Loki’s side. Dropping to her knees before the litter holding the alien prince, her hands passed over his supine form. With his Sight still engaged from his earlier work, Tony could see the threads of magic that she sent outward along with the motion.</p><p>“Hey! What are you doing, Lady?” he cried, concerned for his friend and mentor.</p><p>The Ancient One offered a sympathetic smile, even as she continued her work. “I am assessing your Master’s condition. He has been under the bonds of a powerful and vicious control curse, one which has done considerable damage to his mind, body, and magic. However, it does appear that the curse was recently broken, most likely saving his life in the process.”</p><p>Tony smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck as he answered her unspoken question.</p><p>“Yeah, that was me. I managed to break that thing a few hours ago,” he said as he gestured towards the far side of the cave from where they stood. It was there that he had deposited the collar and cuffs which had once adorned the older Sorcerer’s neck and wrists. They were visibly scorched and cracked from within and without, and had been easy to remove from their former locations once the magic that was contained within them had been nullified.</p><p>While Tony had not wanted them anywhere near Loki, he knew that the still visible runes that adorned their surfaces could be useful in diagnosing the older man’s ailments. Besides, he didn’t want to risk anyone taking, repairing, and then using them on another victim.</p><p>“Well then, it does indeed seem that you were honest in your request, young Mister Stark. My Order accepts your request, in honor of the long-standing alliance which we share.”</p><p>
  <em>Wait, what?</em>
</p><p>“How!?!”</p><p>Her lips quirked up slightly, but the woman gave no other response to Tony’s exclamation. Instead, she smoothly resumed a standing position. Then, she strode over to the site of the portal, which still pulsed a bit, and, after making a few circular motions with her arms, re-opened it. This time, the view to be seen through the opening was not the same well-furnished room. Instead, it looked out onto a rough stone-paved courtyard.</p><p>“If you will collect those…” she gestured towards the jumbled pile of corroded metal in the corner of the cavern. At the same time, she reached out with her magic. Without a sound, the litter arose and was levitated towards the open portal, with the woman following closely after it.</p><p>Tony hurried to obey, following this new-to-him ally through the portal before it could close once more. He didn’t want to be left behind. </p><p> </p><p>On the other side of the portal, Tony found himself in a stone courtyard. In front of him, several men and women in rust and gray versions of the Ancient One’s robes were swarming around the still-floating litter and taking her instructions. Despite the activity, the serenity that he had noticed in his earlier observations of their leader carried throughout all that he saw.</p><p>It was a refreshing contrast to the aura of subterfuge and banked menace that had been infused into every part of the Sandbox, where SHIELD had held them captive. Even the Quinjet held a hint of that feeling, even though it was a new construction.</p><p>Mere moments after Tony stepped through the portal, a pair of robed individuals broke away from the swarming crowd and redirected themselves towards his side. In short order, Tony found himself dispossessed of the broken collar and manacles that he had carried, separated from his comatose mentor, and led inside of the building that surrounded the courtyard.</p><p>After a second flurry of brisk moves, Tony found himself escorted to a small and sparsely furnished but still blissfully private bedroom on the second floor. The room was almost monastic in form, with its only furniture a simply dressed bed and a closed wardrobe. Directly opposite the door, a large window opened out into the central courtyard he had just left. Off to one side, an open door led to what appeared to be an on-suite bathroom.</p><p>This room, his escort informed him, would be designated for his personal use as soon as his name was added to the plaque outside. As such, Tony would have use of it for as long as he chose to remain within the sanctuary of Kamar Taj.</p><p>“Within this space, you will have absolute privacy,” the man promised; his deep brown, almost mahogany, colored eyes serious. “It is one of the most important tenets of our training. Sorcerers, especially young ones like yourself, have a greater need than most people for such things. Now,” he added with a glance down Tony’s form, “as you are a visitor, you are not required to dress as one of the Order. Instead, your wardrobe has been supplied with clothing in a variety of sizes and styles – simply select the ones which suit and set aside the rest. Once you have had a chance to bathe and dress, the Ancient One has asked that you join her for an evening meal. I will be waiting outside to escort you when you are ready.”</p><p>Giving Tony no chance to interject, the gray-haired Sorcerer swept out of the room in a flourish of dark cloth.</p><p>For a moment, all Tony could do was to stand and process. After so long in captivity, where things happened slowly if at all, the sheer speed in which things had changed was overwhelming.</p><p>But then the man’s words and his earlier glance down Tony’s body registered. Following in his guide’s footsteps, Tony glanced down to see the stolen SHIELD uniform that he still wore. Its dark fabric was torn and scuffed, covered in a great deal of blood and dirt. These, along with his sweaty body and disheveled appearance, were clear signs of the effort that he had gone through in escaping from the Sandbox’s Oubliette and finally breaking Loki’s curse.</p><p>“Ugh,” he muttered quietly before heading for the bathroom. He was a disgusting mess. A shower, especially one without sneering watchers around, sounded like heaven.</p><p> </p><p>It was perhaps an hour later when Tony found himself seated on a large floor cushion set before a low, teak dining table and sipping from a cup of green tea.</p><p>He had taken full advantage of the supplies offered in his suite, having a proper shave for the first time in years, and had dressed in a combination of the familiar, a pair of comfortable jeans, and novel, a solid-colored tunic cut in a style similar to the ones which the residents of this place wore, before leaving his room.</p><p>As promised, his escort had waited just outside. When Tony emerged, looking and feeling much more put together, the man had looked him up and down before quirking an eyebrow in appreciation. Tony had flushed, unaccustomed to such overt flirting after his time in captivity. While he and Loki had done the mutual appreciation thing when they first met, it had been years since they had settled into a more sibling-like relationship. And it wasn’t like he was going to flirt with any of SHIELDRA’s people. That would have just felt… wrong.</p><p>Still, despite being out of practice, he couldn’t help but return the compliment. The other man’s sharp cheekbones and powerful physique, what little he could see through numerous layers of robes, were strikingly beautiful, as was his aura of banked power.</p><p>After their glance of mutual admiration, the stranger had introduced himself as “Kaecilius”. Then, he had led Tony back down the way that they had come earlier, and then even further, following the curve of the courtyard to reach the small room where he now sat.</p><p>From her seat across the table from Tony, the Ancient One took a sip of her cup of tea before letting out a satisfied sigh.</p><p>“There’s something about a fresh cup of tea that just makes one feel at ease,” she said politely.</p><p>“I guess,” Tony agreed, but he had reached the end of his ability to hold his tongue. “Look, Lady, I appreciate the hospitality and all, but what about Loki? Where is he? Is he okay? What’s going on?”</p><p>Holding up a hand, the ageless Sorcerer halted his flow of words with effortless ease.</p><p>“I assure you, young Anthony,” she said, “that your Master is in the best possible hands. Our healers have much experience with such injuries. They are still completing their evaluation, but from what we have ascertained thus far it appears that he has fallen into a healing trance. It is a natural response for his body and magic, a way to dedicate all of his strength to recovery, and not uncommon as a healing technique amongst those gifted in the Mystic Arts.”</p><p>She offered him a serene smile and then continued. “Given the level of damage done to both his physical and magical forms by the curse, it is uncertain how long he will remain in such a state. For now, all that we can do is to maintain his body in the best possible condition. This will allow his magic to focus its energy on healing the damage that it has sustained.”</p><p>“But he will recover?” Tony asked, hopeful. He couldn’t bear the idea that Loki would escape only to pass before truly tasting the freedom that he’d been missing for so long. The very thought burned. “He will wake up?”</p><p>“I believe that he will, though it may be months or even years from now. In the meantime, I have another person to consider.”</p><p>Tony found his eyes captured in the other’s orbs, her gaze penetrating and knowing. It was as if she could read his every thought. Despite that, he could also see sympathy and understanding. <em>Wait, she couldn’t be… talking about</em> <em>me? I’m nothing to her or her people. Why would she care about me?</em> His mind raced.</p><p>“All that my old friend requires is a safe space to recover, but your needs, my young Apprentice, are not quite so simple,” she said, interrupting his frantic train of thought with her kind words.</p><p>But before the Ancient One could expand, they were interrupted by the boom of thunder. It echoed through the stone floor, much louder than it should be even if the strike was right on top of them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>That was no normal thunder.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tony knew in an instant that it must be at least partially magical.</p><p>It seemed that the Ancient One agreed. She swept to her feet in a flourish of fabric. With a wave of her hand, a gold-edged portal was opened. From what he could tell, it opened out onto the courtyard where they had arrived earlier that afternoon.</p><p>Without hesitation, the Ancient One stepped through. Tony rushed to follow her before the portal could close.</p><p>The feeling that now flooded the stone square was very different from the earlier sense of busy serenity. Each of the robed figures scattered around its outer perimeter had changed their behavior dramatically. Instead of flocking together in support of their leader, now they stood ready to fight. Some held wooden staves or other oddly shaped weapons, while golden runes hung in the air around others.</p><p>Above their heads, the sky had gone almost black with clouds. The wind began to pick up, and the sharpness of ozone could be felt on the air. All the signs that a severe thunderstorm was coming</p><p>Tony strode over to where the Ancient One stood beside Kaecilius, his earlier casually flirtatious mood replaced with an aura of danger that was palpable even to Tony’s inexperienced eye.</p><p><em>Damn, that’s hot, h</em>e thought a bit absently, before sobering. <em>Not the time for that, even if it’s true.</em></p><p>“What’s happening?” he asked one of the others that stood nearby as the wind picked up.</p><p>“Visitors,” the powerful-looking black man armed with a glowing, rune-covered staff, responded shortly, even as he tightened his grip on the stave.</p><p>At that moment, Tony could understand why Loki had called this place a refuge. It was clear that the Order was well prepared to defend both themselves and any guests which they might entertain.</p><p>In the sky above the courtyard, a massive portal formed at the heart of the dark clouds. A flash of multi-colored light shot down, slamming into the ground with a sizzle as if something was burning. The light was blinding and forced Tony to look away out of sheer self-preservation.</p><p>When he looked back, the light had cleared; leaving behind a massive rune sigil burned into the courtyard’s stone surface. Standing in the center of the sigil was a troupe of men and women, well-armored in gleaming metal and prepared for a fight.</p><p>Their leader, the top half of his blonde locks pulled back into a queue, bore a massive, rune-covered, war hammer in one hand.</p><p>“Thor,” Tony breathed, recognizing the face from his visions during the Convergence.</p><p>It seemed that the Ancient One agreed, for she waved at her people to stand down. In response, the Asgardians did the same, relaxing into a state of wary readiness at Thor’s unspoken gesture.</p><p>Stepping forward, the Thunderer greeted the Ancient One with a shallow bow of a visiting ruler to his equal.</p><p> “Milady Sorceress,” he said politely, “many years ago my brother, the Prince Loki, spoke of the Midgardian Order of the Mystic Arts. He once said that you held sway over the magic of this land, protecting it from enemies within and without. As such, I come to you as a petitioner, hopeful that you may be able to assist in a matter of grave importance.”</p><p>“Of course,” the Ancient One replied. “We would be honored to assist the Prince of Asgard.”</p><p>Thor cleared his throat, “King Regent, actually,” he said a tad sheepishly. “Mine father, King Odin, fell into the Odinsleep during the Convergence and has yet to awaken from his slumber. I was granted the honor of being named Regent for the duration of his incapacity.”</p><p>“King, then,” the Ancient One accepted the correction easily, while Tony hid his shock. His Master had often spoken of his reckless brother, arrogant and prone to aggression. But the Thor who stood before him seemed different from Loki’s tales.</p><p><em>Maybe losing Lokes forced him to grow up?</em> He wondered. <em>Loki did say that his brother was capable of learning, as long as he had sufficient reason. Losing his younger brother would be a good reason, I suppose.</em></p><p>While Tony was lost in thought, around him the others were not. If he didn’t follow, he’d be left behind. With quick steps, he hurried forward, trailing behind the pair of leaders as they made their way up the steps of the courtyard. They went into a large receiving room, one intended for more formal business than the smaller space where Tony and the Ancient One had previously sat having tea.</p><p>As Order troops and Asgardians alike claimed places around the room, the Ancient One gestured for Tony to take a seat at her side.  No doubt he would be a key part of the discussions. After all, he was Loki’s apprentice and the sole witness to many of the relevant events.</p><p>Despite his armor, the Thunderer appeared comfortable as he took a seat at the low table. He dropped into a tailor’s seat easily, having set down his war hammer to one side. As he did so, an attendant stepped around the impressive weapon to place a tray of tea on the central table.</p><p>Tony suppressed a sigh. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the delay in their conversation. Still, he understood the move. It was a sign of polite negotiation, one that was common in Asia and a sign that the mundane anchor for Kamar Taj was located somewhere on that continent.</p><p>Once all those who were seated at the table were served and had taken their first sips of the hot beverage, the Ancient One spoke.</p><p>“King Thor,” she said. “Upon your arrival, you spoke of a matter of grave importance, presumably one which impacts your people. What could a Midgardian Order possibly do for the Golden Realm?”</p><p>Thor hesitated for a moment and then spoke. “It is not… precisely the Realm who requires aid. I spoke earlier of my brother, Prince Loki. It is on his behalf that I have come. Some decades ago, there was an incident with a Jotunn Seidrmadr by the name of Svadilfari. As is custom, the Court of Asgard was holding an open session when the man appeared before Odin Allfather in the guise of a son of Alfheim. There, he proclaimed his skill with seidr, including the building of defenses... <em>Wards...</em> against attack by enemies of the Realm.”</p><p>“Mine brother, who as you know is a powerful Seidrmadr in his own right, was intrigued by the man’s claims. He convinced our father to allow the man the opportunity to construct a new palace Ward, a particular challenge for even the most skilled Wardmasters. Svadilfari accepted the challenge and claimed that it would take no more than a year and a day for him to complete the task. Should he fail to complete the project in time, he proposed that he would receive no payment for his work. On the other hand, should he succeed he requested a boon from Odin Allfather, which was no mean reward.”</p><p>“At first, the monster’s intentions appeared honorable. The framework of the Ward took shape quickly, as he wove it into the very foundations of the land. But as Svadilfari’s deadline neared and the Ward approached completion my brother grew suspicious. Something about the Working troubled him. Less than a day before the deadline, he paid the other Seidrmadr a visit.”</p><p>“We may never know what exactly occurred during that confrontation. All that is known for a fact is that Loki somehow discovered the true purpose of Svadilfari’s Ward. It was a siphon, one which would steal the powerful seidr of the Golden Realm and its inhabitants for its wielder’s dark purposes. The pair fought, and Loki was overcome, but not before he managed to send out a warning to his mentor, Heimdall.”</p><p>Thor closed his eyes, as if in pain, and then continued. “With Loki’s warning in hand, I immediately led a troop of our most skilled warriors to confront the villain. In the battle, his true identity as a Jotunn of some renown, one who fought against Asgard during the last war, was revealed.”</p><p>“We proved victorious in our battle, taking down the monster before he could complete his Ward and destroy the Golden Realm and its inhabitants. During the battle, Svadilfari spoke of his victory over my brother, claiming to have stolen his seidr. Not only that, but the villain proved his claim by using seidr that bore my brother’s green color in the battle against us. I was enraged at the villain’s words, to the point that when we finally triumphed over his workings, I killed him immediately.”</p><p>“It was only once he was dead that the true meaning of his claims was revealed.  A thorough search of Svadilfari’s workshop revealed no sign of my brother’s body. Instead, the Palace Seidrmadrs found residue of the same curse as the foul Ward that he had planned for Asgard scattered across the space. It seemed that the monster had used it on Loki. In doing so, he had claimed both Loki’s seidr and his life. Thus, all of Asgard was convinced that my brother was no more. We grieved and, despite the absence of a body, honored him with a warrior’s pyre as was the right of a Prince fallen in battle.”</p><p>“Our mother alone was convinced that Loki was not lost. Her gift of precognition, her weaving, still showed futures where her son was restored to his home. But it was not until the past year that any other evidence would be found. Heimdall, he of the All-Seeing Eye, began to notice traces of Loki’s seidr scattered across the Realms. These traces were far too fresh to be remnants of workings from before Loki’s death. Thus, they gave hope that our lost son could be out there somewhere, still alive.”</p><p>Drawing himself up, Thor finished his story. “With the Convergence’s aftershocks still troubling Heimdall’s vision, he was unable to isolate the origin of the traces. However, everything that he has found points to a location here on Midgard. Thus, we have come seeking your aid in conducting a search.”</p><p>As Thor completed his speech, Tony was surprised but pleased to see the Ancient One look his way, wordlessly asking permission before sharing secrets. Since the King’s story did match the one that his Master had told, he nodded.</p><p>“Be at ease, your Majesty,” the Ancient One said, “your brother was correct. Indeed, he is an old friend to I and my Order. However, I regret to tell you that I will not be able to help you search for Loki.”</p><p>Thor frowned, displeased, but the Ancient One wasn’t finished.</p><p>“Because he is already here.”</p><p>“What!?”</p><p> </p><p>Upon learning that his brother was currently in residence in Kamar Taj, Thor immediately demanded to see him.</p><p>So, they moved to the infirmary, where the long-lost prince now lay comatose. Once the Asgardian healer who had accompanied Thor had confirmed that it was Loki and that he was in no danger, but rather in a healing coma, the King asked, “but how hast my brother come to be with thee, my Lady?”</p><p>“That, I am afraid, is not my tale to tell. Prince Loki was already in this condition when he arrived only a few short hours ago,” she replied.</p><p>“Then who?”</p><p>Without another word, the Ancient One gestured to Tony, who stood by their side. Besides the four of them: Tony, the Ancient One, Thor, and his healer, there was no one else in the room. It was far too small a space to accommodate anyone else.</p><p>The size of the group made it easier for Tony to speak. He recounted the story as he knew it. He spoke of his and Loki’s shared incarceration and torture at the hands of SHIELD (HYDRA, whatever), as well as the limited training that he’d received from his fellow captive.</p><p>When Thor heard the news that his recent allies and shield-brothers were the ones who had held his brother captive, he was furious. The hammer that he bore crackled with electricity and thunder boomed from outside.</p><p>It took a bit of work, but Tony and the others managed to talk Thor down. They pointed out that most if not all of SHIELD had no idea of the situation. Tony used Agent Barton as an example there, a fact which quite pleased both Thor and his companion, the Asgardian Healer named Eir.</p><p>“He was my patient for a time, the Hawk-eyed Agent. It is good to hear that he is recovered from his wounds and has proven himself to be a worthy man,” she said softly, her eyes locked on her King.</p><p>“Indeed,” Thor agreed. “A mortal with the strength to handle contact with not one but two of the Infinity Stones. It is comforting that such a man has revealed himself to be a man of honor.”</p><p>The tale of SHIELD’s current troubles with HYDRA, including the news of internal fighting and the Ancient One’s description of Captain America’s very public involvement in that fight, that was the final nail in the coffin, as it were. Everyone agreed that under the circumstances there would be no way to get the truth about SHIELD’s crimes, at least not with a frontal assault. Instead, it would require subtlety. For now, SHIELD would be allowed to believe that their violation of the agreements signed with Asgard had gone unobserved.</p><p>Meanwhile, decisions were made in regards to other, more important, matters. Loki was to return to Asgard, where the palace healers were better equipped to handle both his race and the type of injuries that he had sustained.</p><p>“Besides,” Thor had said, his eyes wet with unshed tears, “our mother will need to see mine brother with her own eyes and lay hands on his body herself to know for certain that her lost son is truly restored to her.”</p><p>The current ruler of the Aesir also offered to bring Tony along with them to the Realm Eternal. As Loki’s recognized Apprentice, indicated by the Prince's magical signature in his seidr, the young Sorcerer had earned the right to live in the Realm Eternal.</p><p>Such an honor was practically unheard of, or so the Ancient One said. As far as she knew, the last Midgardian to receive the privilege of journeying to the Golden Realm had been a Norse warrior, a great man who had saved his Asgardian counterpart in the heat of battle and had suffered egregious wounds as a consequence. Recognizing that the man would die if left on Earth, the Allfather had allowed him to be brought to the Halls of Healing long enough to cure his life-threatening wounds. He was then returned to his clan, carrying tales of the golden city and its people. These eventually grew into the Myths of the Norse Gods.</p><p>So, when Thor made his offer, many of the members of the Order who had been shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversation murmured in surprise and jealousy. But Tony turned Thor down.</p><p>“I have unfinished business to attend to here on Earthgard, Your Sparky Majesty,” he replied, explaining his refusal as politely as he could. “Anyways, it’s not like there would be much for me to do up there, not until Loki awakens. Of course, once my Ice Man cometh back to himself, you’ll tell him where I am, won’t you?” he asked.</p><p>“Of a certainty, son of Stark,” the Thunderer promised, clapping a single, strong hand on Tony’s shoulder and making his knees buckle with the force. “Mine brother will doubtless wish to see thee upon his restoration. Nevertheless, I understand thy reasons for remaining in this place. Should such matters be altered, the Realm will always remain open to the Prince’s Apprentice. Simply call for Heimdall, and he will collect thee; no matter where on Midgard thou may be.”</p><p>“Thanks, big guy,” Tony replied shakily. He was still recovering his footing after Thor’s ‘pat’. Once he had finished doing so, he removed himself from the center of the courtyard. It was there that the Asgardians had gathered now that the negotiations were complete. They stood atop the same runes that had been burnt onto its surface a few hours before. The only difference from their previous formation was that they now incorporated a litter bearing the comatose Loki at their center.</p><p>Having reached the edge of the runes, Tony took up a position at the Ancient One’s side, standing on the wooden steps that led down into the courtyard. He offered her a nod as he turned to face Thor and the Asgardians. The god-King offered another nod of acknowledgment to both Tony and their host, then he looked up into the now clear sky.</p><p> “Heimdall,” he called, “bring us home.”</p><p>In an instant, there was another brilliant, multicolored flash of light, blinding Tony and the other watchers. When it cleared, the Asgardians were gone.</p><p>“Now,” Tony said with a grin, invigorated by what had just occurred, “shall we resume our discussion?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Nation Besieged</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Nakia, War Dog of Wakanda</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: Due to the fact that half of this story is based in the African nation of Wakanda, parts of it may reflect certain current events in our world today. This includes references to the Los Angeles, California race riots in the early 1990s as part of a character’s backstory. Such references may be triggering for some readers, so please read responsibly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Nation Besieged</h1><p>
  
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<hr/><p>
  <em>“It’s incredibly risky, you know?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“This disguise your country uses. You pretend to be just another impoverished third-world country in the heart of Africa. Meanwhile, your technology is in advance of the rest of the world. But that technology isn’t based purely on skill. No, it comes from the natural resource of Vibranium that you claim a monopoly upon.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony Stark’s comment was absent, as most of his attention was focused elsewhere. He was in the process of converting a chunk of Vibranium into a crystalline form appropriate for use in his personal Arc Reactor, a delicate and finicky task. For most, the task would require their full and complete attention, but not the Stark genius. Despite his intense effort, he was still able to entertain his current visitor with intelligent conversation.</em>
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  <em>“And why is that risky?” Nakia asked, her curiosity aroused by the inventor’s comment. In the last few years, she had seen her fair share of danger. It was the natural consequence of her chosen career as a War Dog of Wakanda. However, that danger had always been to her as an individual, or in a few cases the mission on which she had embarked, not to her nation as a whole.</em>
</p><p><em>All Wakandans who ventured out into the larger world, whether as spies, diplomats, businessmen, or something else, received extensive training in resisting even the most rigorous levels of interrogation. Not to mention that no Wakandan would ever dream of betraying their homeland, not to </em>Colonizers<em>. So how could the nation be at risk?</em></p><p>
  <em>“Oh, not from your people, Aida,” Stark -Tony - said. “Not really. I do not doubt that your nation trains its representatives far too well for that. Besides, I’ve seen how fiercely loyal all of you are to your nation and its royal family. Those, what did you call them, Dora? They were quite convincing there.”</em>
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  <em>Nakia smiled at the compliment to her sisters-in-arms, some of whom she had trained alongside. But her companion wasn’t finished.</em>
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  <em>“Nah, the danger comes from the outside,” he continued. “Not in the traditional sense, of course, given the technological differences. Rather, the danger comes from the court of public opinion. Wakanda’s true reality is an unspoken secret that is held by the global intelligence community. And not just them, it’s also an open secret across the large, multinational corporations of the world. Your people are good, but it’s simply impossible to manage the sheer scale of that kind of cover-up, not without some leaks.”</em>
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  <em>“For now, everyone is willing to keep the truth under wraps. After all, a grand reveal would harm most of them just as much as it would Wakanda. But that won’t always be the case. One day, Wakanda will be exposed. And if I know the public like I do...” Here the man who’d grown up in the public eye actively winced, a sight which put her hackles up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nakia knew that Tony Stark understood the fickle nature of public opinion more than most people. If he was wincing, the future that he envisioned must be a truly unpleasant one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, let’s just say that the backlash won’t be pretty. Not like you, my dancing queen. I know how much your nation has done to support their neighbors and others, especially those living in that part of the world, but the average human won’t be so aware. They’ll see Wakanda as selfish, privileged, or worse, uncaring. It could be an unmitigated disaster. And all it would take is a leak, one which is impossible to cover up.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>At the time, Nakia had mostly dismissed Tony’s comments. They seemed like nothing more than idle speculation. But in recent days she had found the genius inventor’s unthinking words to be startlingly prophetic.</p><p>When the Black Widow and Captain America had chosen to put the entirety of the SHIELD database out on the web in an attempt to bring down the HYDRA contingent within their ranks, the extent of that organization’s actions had been just the tip of the massive iceberg of information that was revealed.</p><p>From Nakia’s perspective, the worst thing to be found in its depths had been the section dedicated to the secretive nation of Wakanda.</p><p>And it had not been a small section.</p><p>SHIELD had managed to identify dozens of War Dogs who were in the field, so the leak had compromised active missions across the globe. But it wasn’t only active missions that were disrupted.  An extensive chronology of Wakanda’s work to destabilize <em>Colonizers</em>’ actions across the globe could be found in the depths of the database, including several missions that would look criminal to the uninitiated viewer.</p><p>Then there was the Vibranium issue.</p><p>Contained within the database was a fairly thorough estimate of Wakandan science and technology, based on the examples of Wakandan tech that SHIELD’s agents had encountered or managed to acquire. SHIELD’s science branch had been trying to duplicate Wakandan technology since the organization’s beginning, and the number of rants about the African nation’s unwillingness to share its unique natural resource was ridiculously large.</p><p>In all of this trouble, Nakia knew that she had been lucky.</p><p>Thanks to SHIELD’s focus on her identity as Mercy, Tony Stark’s Wakandan liaison before his mysterious breakdown, her other missions and identities had remained off of their radar. Instead, she had the rather unique experience of observing the disaster unfold while on a mission, embedded in place in a hostile foreign compound.</p><p> </p><p>About five months before the fall of SHIELD, Nakia had been given the assignment of infiltrating the home compound of Joseph Isabile, the notorious Central African Dictator. To do so, her orders were to take advantage of the depredations of Isabile’s men, who habitually raided the villages within their reach. As an attractive young woman, Nakia - or rather, to give her cover name, Amira - would exactly fit what the soldiers were looking to collect.</p><p>So, when her colleague Tembe, who was on assignment as a soldier in one of Isabile’s camps, sent word that there was a raid scheduled that week, she headed out. Amira, named after Nakia’s aunt, a fellow War Dog who had died when Nakia was a child, arrived in one of the villages a few days before the soldiers hit.</p><p>She claimed to be passing through on her way to re-join her family, having hitched a ride with a truck that was delivering supplies to the rural area. After spending the next couple of days doing odd jobs, supposedly making ends meet while waiting for the next opportunity to continue her journey, the raiders hit. As a stranger, Amira had no one to protect her from being seized by the soldiers. If anything, it was almost encouraged.</p><p>The harsh reality was that it was easier for the villagers to sacrifice a stranger than one of their young women.</p><p>A few words from Tembe, who was a member of the raiding party, and Amira was sent off to the main compound with the bulk of the supplies taken during the raid. Once there, her beauty and skills were enough to earn her a prime position within Isabile’s household, one which gave her extensive access to the compound and its various secrets.</p><p>Nakia was about to call for an extraction, having completed her information gathering, when the news of SHIELD’s fall broke. Unsurprisingly, Isabile and his men were thrilled with the news. In their minds, the fall of one of America’s most notorious spy agencies would distract the powerful country from interfering in their business.</p><p><em>Bast protect us…</em> Nakia had thought on that first night after the news broke, watching the Dictator and his men as they got increasingly drunk and violent. <em>These men already do such harm. What atrocities will they commit in their celebrations?</em></p><p>Soon, however, her concerns became more personal.</p><p>Over the next few days, whispers began to spread throughout the compound. A spy in one of the outlying camps had been identified by the SHIELD leaks. At first, Nakia had assumed that it was one of SHIELD’s people. That news was unfortunate, but not of great importance for her mission. But then, when the rumors were confirmed on one particularly intense evening, her assumption about the spy’s identity was proven incorrect.</p><p> </p><p>Amira had been in Dictator Isabile’s gold-gilt audience chamber, working as an entertainer and serving girl. Dressed in the skimpy wardrobe that was the uniform of choice for Isabile’s women, she had just delivered fresh drinks to a pair of already plastered soldiers. She had been submitting to their drunken fondling with barely contained disgust when the festive mood was broken by the door to the chamber slamming open with a thud.</p><p>General Armand Unholo, one of Isabile’s most loyal commanders, came striding into the room. Unlike Isabile and the others, he was still dressed for battle, his uniform coated in road dust. Unholo was followed by a pair of similarly dusty troops, each one carrying a wooden crate in their arms.</p><p>“Sir,” Unholo said, reaching the dais where Isabile held court. He came to attention and offered a crisp salute of respect. Isabile returned the gesture with a smile.</p><p>“Armand,” he said, “this is a pleasant surprise. I had not looked to see you for some weeks. Tell me, how go things at the front?”</p><p>“The front remains secure,” Unholo said grimly. “But that is not why I have come. Instead, I have come bearing grievous news. I have found a spy in my ranks.”</p><p>At his subordinate’s words, Isabile’s face grew thunderous. “Who would dare…” he growled, leaning forward in his seat.</p><p>In response, Unholo beckoned one of his men forward. The soldier opened the crate that he bore to reveal… a severed head.</p><p>From her position behind the main table, Amira had a full view of the grisly sight. While human remains were always distressing to view, she had been trained to handle such things. What had her nearly collapsing in shock was something else. Despite the tortured expression and decay, she recognized the owner of the head.</p><p>
  <em>It was Tembe!</em>
</p><p>Nakia knew that the other War Dog had been in place for over a year without the slightest hint that his cover might have been blown. There was simply no way that he had broken character or made an egregious enough mistake to be noticed, not after so long.</p><p><em>How in Bast’s name was Tembe identified?</em> Nakia thought, her mind racing. <em>Am I compromised as well? Tembe was the one who arranged for me to be sent to the compound in the first place. </em></p><p>As she struggled to control her reaction to the unexpected sight, Unholo continued speaking.</p><p>“He was one of those damned Wakandans,” he spat. Reaching into the second, smaller crate, he pulled out a bracelet of round metal beads and tossed them onto the table with a thud. They clinked together as they hit the wood surface, but otherwise showed no indication of their true nature.</p><p>Of course, Nakia knew better.</p><p>They were Kimoyo Beads, a familiar sight to the undercover agent. While they looked like nothing more than a simple bracelet of iron beads to the uninitiated eye, that was not their true purpose. Behind their mundane appearance, the dull metal beads hid enough complex circuitry to be the equivalent to a cellular phone or tablet. As such, they were easily adapted for use by Wakanda’s network of War Dogs.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. I’m screwed. </em>
</p><p>Nakia had her own set of Kimoyo Beads hidden among her belongings back in the women’s quarters right now, embedded in a far more feminine-style necklace than the bracelet before her.</p><p>“These match the descriptions found in the SHIELD documents, sir,” Unholo said. “You may want to search your people here for similar accessories.”</p><p><em>What now? </em>Nakia’s mind was scrambling, trying to come up with a plan. There was no way that she could make it to her emergency extraction point, not given what had just happened.</p><p>Fortunately, the men around were far too focused on the conversation between Unholo and Isabile to notice her lack of service.</p><p>
  <em>Do I try to find a way out, or wait and hope for the best?</em>
</p><p>While Nakia was panicking behind her cover of Amira, the innocent servant girl, General Unholo continued to speak. “We were unable to figure out how to make them work, and the Panther spy,” here the general gestured towards the severed head that his man was still holding up, “was less than helpful in aiding our efforts.” With a shrug, he added. “The spy killed himself rather than spill his guts.”</p><p>“They are as loyal as the documents claim, then?” Isabile said absently, fiddling with the beads that Unholo had offered to his leader.</p><p>“So it seems,” the General agreed. “I do not know exactly what his mission might have been here, but given the leaked documents from the Americans I am sure that it is nothing good.”</p><p>“Indeed. It is a shame that the Snake-Heads failed to find a way around their cursed protections.”</p><p>Isabile and all of his men curled their lips in disgust.</p><p>“The Wakandans should be on our side. Instead, they choose to lock themselves away behind their shields and let the Europeans run roughshod over us,” he announced. “Thus, I declare Wakanda an enemy of our beloved nation. Any sympathizers or spies will be declared traitors to this regime. Generals, you are to search amongst your people for bracelets like this one,” he said, shaking Tembe’s Kimoyo Beads for emphasis</p><p><em>What is happening? </em>Nakia wondered, hiding her fears behind a blank face.</p><p>Luckily, the differences between Tembe’s masculine bracelet and Nakia’s far more feminine version were enough to keep her safe that night. Instead, she remained in place as rumors circulated widely throughout the compound. Several more of the soldiers were accused of being Wakandan spies and executed with prejudice. As none of them were familiar, she was sure that the accusations were false. Instead, their deaths were likely the result of paranoia.</p><p>Meanwhile, everyone was talking about what had happened in America and around the world. SHIELD had fallen and had taken out huge swathes of covert operations in the process. </p><p>From what she heard, Nakia knew that there were probably dozens, if not hundreds, of War Dogs who had died as a result of the catastrophe. But it was the response of the compound’s servants that had made things worse. Even those servers who had little loyalty to Isabile were openly dismissive of the Wakandans and their efforts.</p><p>“If they really cared,” one of Amira’s fellows commented as they worked to clean the compound after a particularly raucous night. “They would do something about what is happening here. They have the power to bring change, but all that they do is spy on us. Instead, we are left at the mercy of the Americans, Europeans, and our <em>beloved</em> leaders.”</p><p>While the rest of the gathered women agreed, Nakia took the comment to heart. It was grievous to know that Wakandan War Dogs had paid such a steep price and that the response to their sacrifice was overwhelmingly negative. She desperately needed to get out of there, for her mental well-being, if nothing else.</p><p> </p><p>In all of the chaos, it took several weeks before a new extraction plan could be arranged. Nakia's mission had been scheduled to wrap up a few days after the party, but when Tembe’s corpse was delivered Isabile had put the entire compound on lockdown. No one was going in or out. So, she was stuck.</p><p>Eventually, though, things had to stabilize. And with that change, her extraction could finally be arranged.</p><p> </p><p>It began with a delivery to the compound; the result of the latest patrols through the local villages. Along with the food and other supplies, a new crop of women and children were brought in to serve Isabile and his men. This meant that additional space was needed to house the fresh faces.</p><p>As was the warlord’s common practice, those women who had fallen from favor were sent out from the main compound to make room. Some were intended as gifts, rewards for good work to the warlord’s commanders. Others were bound for trade, sent to the local branch of the organization that handled human trafficking. The purchase prices offered for their bodies were a common source of income to fund Isabile’s military strength.</p><p>It took a deliberate effort, but Amira managed to lose the Dictator’s favor and land herself on the departure list. This was exactly what she wanted, so she had not protested too strenuously when she was summoned by Amira’s supervisor to join the caravan. She was efficiently loaded into the covered back of a truck by a pair of handsy soldiers. Once inside, she was quickly joined by a dozen other women and a couple of nearly pubescent boys. All around her, Amira could feel her companions shuddering in fear over their fate, but inside, all she felt was a sense of relief.</p><p>
  <em>Finally, she would be able to escape from this hell-hole. </em>
</p><p>As the truck beneath them shuddered to a start, Amira let out an inaudible sigh, one which could easily be excused as nerves. This assignment, which had gone from routine to something out of the folktales of Hanuman’s revenge, was finally coming to an end.</p><p> </p><p>Despite the motion, the heavy canvas covering the vehicle’s rear compartment blocked nearly all airflow and light, leaving the space dark and stuffy. The air was heavy with moisture, filled with the scents of far too many frightened bodies crammed into a small space.</p><p>Leaning her back against the wall of the truck above the hard bench where she sat, Nakia had allowed her mind to drift. And so she had found herself recalling Tony Stark’s now-prophetic words. It was an unsurprising mental segue, a natural consequence of both the environment where she had been and the stress of recent weeks.</p><p> </p><p>About an hour into their journey, the convoy was intercepted by Wakandans. At first, the signs of the attack were ambiguous. There was a change to the caliber of the animal noises, one that could be heard even over the rattling of the trucks. Then, the guards picked up on it. Their conversations grew more aggressive, and even through the canvas barrier, Amira and her companions could tell that they were growing nervous. First one, and then another vehicle’s engines died, bringing the entire fleet to a halt.</p><p>It wasn’t long before the first shots were fired. These were likely the result of itchy trigger fingers, given the way that the commanders yelled at their men. But soon the true nature of the situation became clear. Bursts of gunfire and screams merged into a single, inharmonious whole.</p><p>With her extensive experience of surviving firefights, Amira knew that it was safest for her as an unarmed non-combatant to remain in place and not try to run. However, given that bullets were flying overhead, getting lower down would be wise. Moving efficiently, she climbed into the bed of the truck, urging her fellows to follow her lead as she did so. Recognizing the wisdom of her actions, the other frightened women and boys followed suit. </p><p>After what felt both like an eternity and only a moment, the sounds of weapons fire began to die down, replaced by the thuds of falling bodies. Then, the canvas at the back of the truck swung open, bringing with it a familiar sight.</p><p>
  <em>Okoye. Bast Bless.</em>
</p><p>Ever the consummate spy, Nakia held her composure at the sight of her friend. Instead, she acted like just another terrified member of Isabile’s harem. She shrieked in fear, and then followed the barked command to exit the vehicle with reluctant steps.</p><p>Moving quickly, the former concubines were removed from the confines of the truck bed and led past the fallen bodies of their escort/captors. Most of the women sobbed in fear. Some were more stoic. They watched with wary eyes as the Wakandan warriors gathered up the scattered weapons of Isabile’s fallen troops, placing them in one of the open truck beds.</p><p>Once Nakia would have assumed that her fellows would be filled with gratitude for their rescuers, but now she knew better.</p><p>There was a distinct possibility that one or more of the women had just lost family, or even a lover, in the ambush. Even if they hadn’t, chances were that going home was out of the question. They’d just end up right back where they started the next time that Isabile’s troops raided their villages.</p><p>Okoye having walked off, clearly busy coordinating the clean-up, it was one of her subordinates who spoke to the rescued women. The warrior spoke confidently as she informed Amira’s companions of their various options. These were the same as the War Dogs usually offered on such occasions.</p><p>First, they could return to their home villages. A military escort would be provided to the nearest trade village, along with funds to pay for the remainder of their journeys home.</p><p>Second, they could use the opportunity to start a new life. The supplies that the captured convoy carried were to be taken to Lagos, where a large compound was maintained, one that had the approval of the Nigerian authorities. In this safe space, intended for the survivors of human trafficking, the women would have a chance to find a new purpose for their lives. The compound was part of the network which Mercy had worked to develop with Tony Stark before his untimely disappearance.</p><p>Of course, no mention was made of the warriors’ allegiance to Wakanda during the speech. Instead, the women were allowed to believe that Okoye and the others were funded by some overseas agency, an important layer of protection. Again, this was common practice for such missions.</p><p>With all that had happened recently, though, Nakia was certain that more than a few of her fellows had some inkling of the truth. Still, there was nothing she could do about suspicions. Instead, as the women split up into groups, having made their decisions, and headed off with the various escorts, Nakia acted.</p><p>She convinced each group of captives that she would be taking the other opportunity that the strangers had offered. Then, once her cover was set, she slipped away into the foliage near the road’s edge. Following the directions that Okoye had subtly indicated, she quickly located the cloaked Talon that had been parked nearby, and with easy movements, slipped onboard.</p><p>After a quick flash of her lower lip confirmed her identity as a War Dog, she was welcomed on board by the waiting pilot. Able to relax for the first time in days, if not weeks, she collapsed into one of the unoccupied seats with a sigh.</p><p>Shortly thereafter, Okoye and a handful of other warriors returned to the Talon. The remainder of the team that had ambushed the convoy would not be returning. Instead, they would stay behind, on escort duty for the prisoners and supplies that had been taken. The warriors’ voices were loud and joyful, the sounds common after a successful mission.</p><p>As she approached Nakia, Okoye reached out and grabbed the younger woman in a tight hug. Meanwhile, the pilot lifted his craft off the ground with barely a sound.</p><p>“Bast be thanked, you’re still with us,” Okoye said in relief as she dropped into the seat beside her friend. “When the news began to pour in, we all feared the worst. T’Challa has been waiting impatiently for your return, as has your Baba.”</p><p>“What happened?” Nakia asked, ready to get the full story from the other woman. “The little that I’ve heard was garbled at best.”</p><p>“It’s a mess,” Okoye admitted. Then she recounted the events that had occurred since Nakia had left for her mission. As she spoke, Nakia had to admit that Okoye’s initial comment was an excellent summary of the whole affair. It was a bewildering and horrifying mess.</p><p>Nakia had already borne direct witness to the disaster caused by the unconsidered actions of Captain America and the Black Widow, but her own experiences were just a single example amongst dozens of others.  Wakandan War Dogs were missing-in-action all over the world, many presumed dead due to the leaks. Missions worldwide had been compromised, ruining years and, in a few instances, decades of hard work.</p><p>Meanwhile, Wakanda had become a hot topic for politicians and the public alike. Both Okoye and Nakia were experienced enough in the art of global affairs to know that the Americans and others were likely using Wakanda as a distraction from their misdeeds. Still, it hurt.</p><p>“The King is under a tremendous amount of stress, both from within and without. There are even rumors that the council may force him to step down,” Okoye added. She would have said more, but something interrupted them. The jet had begun its approach on the borders of Wakanda, and the sight before her had Nakia distracted from the conversation.</p><p>In the past, the view upon approach to the protective shield which defended and hid the country’s heart had been pastoral. A large swathe of grasslands inhabited only by a small collection of rural native villages – living off the land as their ancestors had for generations.</p><p>Of course, Nakia knew that many of those pastoral villages were fronts. Hidden behind the facade lay the training grounds and barracks of Wakanda’s warriors, including the Dora Milaje and War Dogs like herself. Even so, that reality had always been well hidden, beneath the surface.</p><p>But now, now the true face of Wakanda lay exposed to the public.</p><p>Ramshackle encampments covered the part of the grasslands opposite the shield, filled with what looked like refugees and protestors. Out amongst the crowds, what looked like armed camps of the sort that Nakia had just left were scattered. Each of these camps featured uniformed soldiers bearing AK-47s patrolling their perimeters. </p><p>Nakia knew that under normal circumstances, this diverse conglomeration of people wouldn’t last a week. Either the companies of soldiers would fire on each other, or they would abuse the refugees, frightening many of them away. Meanwhile, the protestors would grow bored and tired of ‘roughing’ it and return to their lives of comparative luxury.</p><p>However, these were not normal circumstances. While they had very different reasons for their presence, all of the gathered crowds had one thing in common, their shared anger at her homeland.</p><p>In contrast to the disjointed group, the gathering found across the disturbed ground that marked the demilitarized zone was far more organized. It was a single, massive encampment, one filled with the warriors of Wakanda. While many hid their war gear behind the blanket shields that protected them from projectile weaponry, others carried their weapons openly. They openly showed that they were prepared to fight.</p><p>And it was clear that battles had already been fought in that disputed region.</p><p>In the heart of the demilitarized zone between the encampments, Nakia could see ashes, craters from both normal and Vibranium weapons, and several bodies lying out in the sun. It was a horrifying sight by any definition. At that moment, she was reminded of the war zones that she’d visited in other parts of the world, part of her work as a War Dog. To see even the borders of her homeland as one of these war zones made her weep.</p><p>As tears ran down Nakia’s cheeks, around her the others exchanged meaningful glances. Okoye barked a word forward to the pilot, and he activated the external audio pickup mics. Now, Nakia could hear the noise from outside as they hovered over the area.</p><p>The crowd of (mostly) white protestors off to one side were chanting – DOWN WITH WAKANDA, VIBRANIUM FOR ALL. In their arms, many bore signs and banners, all of which spoke similar words of condemnation.</p><p>Then, as if the shouts of the protestors were a call to arms, one of the armed groups went charging across the designated no-man’s-land, attempting to break through the defensive wall of Wakandan warriors.</p><p>They failed miserably, to no one’s surprise.</p><p>Still, some of the attackers got close enough to the shield wall that a handful of their stray shots hit and made it ripple. The sight of the energy field caused a further ruckus amongst the gathered public, as the cries of the protestors reached a crescendo.</p><p>All aboard the hidden Talon shared looks of dismay, even as their transport veered left. Instead of passing through the shield immediately, which would have caused a visible disruption of both camouflage fields, the jet surfed alongside the outside edge of Wakanda’s border for some distance. It took maybe ten minutes before they reached a section of the shield which fell into a wide ravine. As the vessel dropped down to where it would be out of sight, it was finally able to make its way through without being observed by Outsiders. Signs of their crossing would only be visible from spots inside of the canyon’s bounds.</p><p>Once on the other side of the shield, it didn’t take long before Nakia could see the capitol spread out before her eyes. The vista looked the same as usual; the city’s spires gleamed in the sunlight.  But Nakia did not doubt that the calm was another illusion. Though Wakanda’s people may be resilient, this was a disaster on a scale unlike any in their recent history.</p><p>As the Talon made its final approach into the city, Nakia wiped the tears from her eyes. Then she let Okoye help her to rise. </p><p>“Come, my friend, your King awaits,” Okoye said, her voice grim, as the vehicle came to a landing on the palace’s main platform. “And may Bast guide your words,” she added quietly.</p><p>They shared a clasp of hands, bowing to place their foreheads together before Nakia brushed past her friend and headed down the ramp onto the platform below.</p><p> </p><p>It was with the ease of long practice that Nakia made her way through the extensive compound of the Wakandan palace, heading for her suite of rooms.</p><p><em>Despite everything, it was good to be home, </em>she thought as she walked through the halls.</p><p>Along the way, she passed by several palace guards, including a couple of Dora on patrol. Her passage garnered nothing beyond the familiar nods of respect. After all, her identity was well known here.</p><p>Still, it was a relief to reach her private quarters and, for the first time in ages, be alone. She stripped off grimy and worn garments, covered with stains of dubious origin. Then, climbing into her shower, Nakia turned the water up almost unbearably hot. Standing under the pounding spray, she let the persona of Amira, reluctant servant, a concubine of the Warlord Joseph Isabile, fall away with the patina of dirt, sweat, and gun oil that had coated her skin.</p><p>In its place, she restored her true self – Nakia of the River Tribe, beloved friend to the Royal Family of Wakanda. Resuming the familiar guise was a blessing from the Panther Goddess, a balm to an overstressed soul.</p><p>Thus, it was a much refreshed Nakia who left her chambers a bare hour after arriving.</p><p>Her destination: the private office of King T’Chaka, Wakanda’s current monarch.</p><p> </p><p>“Malume,” she said with a smile as she stepped through the door that had been opened by the pair of guardian Dora. “I am returned.”</p><p>“Daughter,” the King gave his customary response to her greeting from his seat behind the massive carved desk that took up much of his private office. At first glance, he appeared unchanged from the man that she remembered. A closer examination, however, told a very different story. Since the last time that she had seen her ruler, the Wakandan monarch looked like he had aged at least a decade. Stress lines were visible on his face, increased white and grey streaked his curly locks, and his frame was tense.</p><p>Despite her shock at the view, Nakia took care to hide her reaction to T’Chaka’s appearance. Instead, she only made a single, obvious comment.</p><p>“You look tired,” she said, her tone casual.</p><p>In response, the king sighed. Then he set aside what he had been reading with a reluctant nod of agreement.</p><p>“It seems, my dear that you have returned to a country – and a King – in crisis,” he commented. “Though knowing that you are safe takes one load off of this old man’s shoulders.”</p><p>“You’re not that old,” she chided kindly even as she offered him a brief smile. “Sire, should I give my report?”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p> </p><p>Nakia’s debrief with the king lasted for several hours. During that time, she ended up listening more than speaking. It was her surrogate father, her Malume, who had the greater need to speak.</p><p>At one point in their debrief turned conversation, he commented. “I fear, my child, that these recent troubles are a punishment from the Ancestors, perhaps even from the Goddess herself. I see the sins of my youth coming back to haunt me, now so many years later. I cannot help but wonder if it would have been better had I not accepted the mantle of Black Panther all of those years ago.”</p><p>“No! Malume, you are a great King,” Nakia exclaimed. “You cannot let the misfortunes of the present blind you to all of the good that you have done.”</p><p>King T’Chaka shook his head.</p><p>“If only you knew…” he murmured, almost under his breath.</p><p>“I wonder if this isn’t the start of a new era for Wakanda. It has been centuries since the last time that Bast showed herself to us, revealing a new path forward. Not since the threat of the Europeans first made itself known and we began to hide. But now, it seems that we face a new turning point in our history, one which could be as significant as that long-ago day. And, given my place in this tragedy, perhaps it is an indication that the time is ripe for a change. Perhaps a new king…”</p><p>“Speaking of new kings, where is T’Challa in all of this? Malume, where is your son?” Nakia asked firmly. She knew that her childhood friend and former beloved would never abandon his father or his country, not in a time of such hardship.</p><p>At that question, the King sighed. “Like many of our people who have significant experience in navigating the Outside world, he is out of the country on a mission. At present I have him dealing with a particularly sensitive matter to the south,” he said, before turning to other matters. Nakia wished that she could ask for more details, but knew that now wasn’t the time.</p><p>Nakia and T’Chaka’s conversation continued well into the Wakandan evening, with a pause at one point to share a brief meal. Eventually, though, her long day caught up with her. When she failed to hide a second yawn less than a minute after the first, her companion let out a wry chuckle. “But look at this old man, keeping you here for far too long.”</p><p>“I’m fine-“ Nakia began to protest but had to stop to suppress her third yawn.</p><p>“Nonsense. There is no need for you to exhaust yourself on my behalf.”</p><p>With a sigh, Nakia accepted the admonition. She pushed herself out of the comfortable leather seat, groaning as sore muscles which had locked up during the hours of stillness protested the movement.</p><p>“Goodnight, your Majesty,” she said formally.</p><p>“May Bast bless your slumber,” the King replied with a smile, “and welcome home.”</p><p>Nakia smiled in return and then turned to leave the room. As the door opened, she chanced a glance back towards T’Chaka. He had already turned back to his work, his shoulders tense and his expression fallen. She walked past the guardian Dora, their faces impassive. Still, their eyes betrayed their concern for their monarch, a concern that Nakia herself shared. But nothing more could be done on her part, at least not tonight.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Nakia again left her rooms in search of a member of the royal family. This time, her target was the youngest member, the Princess Shuri.</p><p>Of course, with a younger target, Nakia’s hunt was a bit more difficult. Unlike her father, the Princess did not have one particular haunt where she remained ensconced. Instead, she migrated from place-to-place in a somewhat haphazard manner.</p><p>So, Nakia made her way through the halls, asking each of the staff that she passed if they had seen the Princess recently. She could, of course, have turned to her now openly worn Kimoyo Beads for help, but the search was half the fun.</p><p>It also gave her a chance to get a sense of the general mood in the palace.</p><p>From what she could tell, people were disappointed that their nation had come under such negative attention. However, their anger was not aimed at their leaders. Instead, everyone was furious at the outsiders who dared to judge them based on the reports of an agency that had been infiltrated by the evil of HYDRA. That multi-headed monstrosity had been an adversary of Wakanda during the World War II era. Nazi troops were the last to attempt an invasion of the sovereign nation, and now their successors were continuing the push.</p><p>Those who Nakia encountered were happy to talk and to help in her search for Princess. She went from one end of the palace to the other, enjoying the walk as she went.</p><p>In the end, the final piece of the puzzle was the blast of Afro-punk that came echoing down one of the corridors of the science wing. A favorite of the pre-teen princess, the music was a sure sign that the girl was nearby.</p><p>Sure enough, when Nakia followed the music to its source, she found little Shuri. The princess was hard at work, tapping away at a holographic interface that displayed complex chemical models, their details already beyond Nakia’s understanding. It was clear that, despite the girl’s youth, she was already doing advanced work.</p><p>Nakia hid a smile as Shuri squealed in delight at her model’s successful compilation, her youth and hair in dual buns with streaks of pale blue and pink a direct contrast to the very advanced material with which she worked.</p><p>“Miss Shuri, you have a visitor.”</p><p>Hearing the male voice, with its upper-class British accent, made Nakia’s smile widen.</p><p>Meanwhile, Shuri, having spun around in her lab stool, leaped to her feet with an even louder squeal of pleasure.</p><p>“It’s good to hear your voice, JARVIS,” Nakia said, even as she braced herself for forty kilos of an excited princess.</p><p>“You as well, Madame Mercy,” the AI responded, his tone similarly warm despite the artificial nature of its owner. When Tony Stark had gone missing, supposedly seeking treatment for mental damage caused by his time held hostage in Afghanistan, the synthetic being had made a surprising choice.</p><p>Reaching out to the Wakandans, who he had been working with alongside his creator, he had sought out their aid.</p><p>From what he said, JARVIS knew that SHIELD was the one who had stolen his Sir, so he also knew that meant the man’s return was unlikely. The odds of his return were even less than when he had been captured by terrorists. Not only that, but JARVIS had found Stane to be much more aggressive in shutting down his Master Anthony’s affairs this time, including JARVIS’ servers.</p><p>Having calculated a multitude of possible outcomes, JARVIS had then determined that the best way for him to support his Sir was to find a way to remain online. Thus, he had come up with the Wakandan solution.</p><p>He sent a message via a secure connection to Mercy, requesting a meeting. Hidden within the message was a request for sanctuary, one which Nakia had quite willingly passed along. King T’Chaka, having already seen the benefits of working with both Stark and his AI, accepted JARVIS’ request.</p><p>And so, less than a month after Tony’s disappearance, JARVIS carefully packaged his code up into easily transmissible packets before sending them off on a multitude of different, but overlapping, paths. On the other end of their transit, these packets were collected and reassembled on a dedicated server in the Wakandan palace. Then, when the packets were compiled, a copy of JARVIS came into being.</p><p>The AI’s move had proved fortuitous. Less than a week after the copy of his code came online in Wakanda, the server that maintained JARVIS’ original code was shut down. It was the consequence of Stane’s mothballing of Stark's various personal properties.</p><p>In the years since then, JARVIS had never given up his search for his missing master. But, in the meantime, he had found a new home, friends, and another genius and absent-minded scientist to care for in the Wakandan Princess.</p><p>“How are you both doing?” Nakia asked around her armful of pre-teen, glancing towards JARVIS’ nearest camera lens with the ease of long habit.</p><p>Given their positions, Nakia could feel Shuri’s huff, but it was JARVIS who responded to her query.</p><p>“Little Miss and I have been hard at work since the original data release. We have been tracking down dangerous information, removing it from the wrong hands where we can. Unfortunately, SHIELD’s files are skewed towards the perspective of Wakanda as an adversary. So, the country’s missions that were known to the organization are being projected in that light.”</p><p>“There were just too many,” Shuri added; her eyes wet with unshed tears. “I tried to warn them all, but there just wasn’t enough time.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault, Little Miss-“,</p><p>“You can’t blame yourself, Shuri-“</p><p>Both Nakia and JARVIS spoke simultaneously, over top of each other. After a moment, as JARVIS remained silent, Nakia continued.</p><p>“We all know the risks when we go out into the world outside our borders. There was no way to expect that anyone would be so foolish as the Captain and his companion, and throw everything open to the public. I am certain that you and JARVIS managed to save many who would have otherwise perished.”</p><p>Shuri’s reply was a watery, “I guess so.”</p><p>“But enough sad stuff. Tell me, little cat, what are you working on there?”</p><p>Shuri’s face brightened and Nakia braced herself for an outpouring of technobabble. Sure enough, the pre-teen’s explanation rapidly approached the limits of Nakia’s scientific knowledge. Still, if it made her surrogate little sister happy and distracted, that was a very good thing. As Shuri explained, with clarifying interjections from JARVIS, about a new Vibranium alloy that she was developing, Nakia’s mind drifted once more to Tony Stark.</p><p>
  <em>Was he even still alive? And if he was, what had happened to him in this mess?</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A New Routine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And we're back to Tony and Kamar Taj.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A New Routine</h1><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>Step forward.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Right arm up, followed by the right leg.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Knee bent and then angled away from the body.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Snap Kick.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Flash a smirk at the instructor. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Check.</em>
</p><p>As he moved through the steps of the kata alongside a dozen others in the mossy courtyard, Tony took in a deep breath, pushing it past the limitations imposed by his compromised sternum. The smells of earth, greenery, wood, and the spicy incense burning from the brass trivets hanging along the rim of the space were a sharp contrast from the minimal, desiccated, and straight-up artificial aromas which he had become accustomed to during his years as a prisoner. It was a wonderful change.</p><p>From far outside the walls of Kamar Taj, he caught distant echoes of the wind as it blasted through the depths of the Himalayas. But within those walls, every sense echoed the same message.</p><p>
  <em>You are safe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Here, within this place, you can rest and recover.</em>
</p><p>It was a message which Tony reveled in, and one which his bruised psyche desperately needed. </p><p>Rage, his emotional best friend while in captivity, had begun to grow and evolve. Where once it was contaminated with the lethargy of hopeless condemnation, now it burned brightly with the determination of righteous vengeance. If he let it, his rage would stoke itself to the point where he lost all sense of control.</p><p>
  <em>No. </em>
</p><p>He refused to let that happen. Starks were men of iron, his father had told him, and he knew all too well that too hot a fire would make even the highest quality iron brittle. And there was too much that Tony still needed to do. He didn’t have time to break.</p><p>With that motivation in mind, he had accepted the Ancient One’s offer of instruction in the arts of magic and control. While Loki had done his best, between the lack of resources in the Oubliette and the curse which had held the Jotunn bound, Tony’s original education in the Mystic Arts had been spotty. Now he would be able to fill in the gaps that had been missed: out of necessity or otherwise.</p><p>For her part, the Ancient One arranged weekly sessions for meditation and counseling. These sessions reminded him of the therapist that he’d seen after his parents’ death. They helped Tony to center himself, to come to terms with the changes to his core identity.</p><p>However, outside of those sessions, he rarely saw the Sorcerer Supreme. Instead, most of his time was spent with others who dwelt within the fortress’ bounds.</p><p>Like any good researcher, Tony had tracked down the library within a few days of his arrival at Kamar Taj. The head librarian, who bore the singular moniker of Wong, became a fast friend. His deadpan wit reminded Tony of both JARVIS and his namesake, the man who had raised the lonely child genius. Meanwhile, Wong’s fondness for popular culture made him an excellent partner in conversational sparring. </p><p>On the other hand, Tony’s primary tutor in the Mystic Arts was his attractive guide from that first day in Kamar Taj, Kaecilius. A Lithuanian by heritage, Kaecilius had come to the Order in the aftermath of great loss. While, unlike Tony, his losses were through natural causes, disease taking the lives of both his wife and young son, he was still able to understand and even empathize with the younger man’s deep well of rage.</p><p>It was Kaecilius who taught Tony how to bank the fire of his rage, turning it into a weapon that he could harness and not a wildfire that would burn out of control. Then once he was satisfied that Tony had sufficient control of both his magic and his emotions, he was also the one who encouraged the Ancient One to allow the inventor-turned-apprentice-sorcerer certain freedoms not typically offered to the Order’s acolytes so early in their education.</p><p> </p><p>One morning, about a month after Tony arrived in Kamar Taj, he was awoken from his slumber by a knock on the door.</p><p>“Give me a moment,” he called out blearily as he rolled out of the bed. He was dressed only in a pair of loose sleeping pants, leaving his chest and the night-light at its center exposed.</p><p><em>Did I forget about a meeting? </em>He thought, uneasily, stumbling to the door.</p><p>To his surprise, he was greeted by a smirking Kaecilius. Today, the older man had eschewed his typical robes and tabards for a modern, tailored, and fitted suit in a subtle gray.</p><p>“What’s going on, Merlin?” he asked, suspicious. “Are you going somewhere?”</p><p>After glancing over Tony’s exposed chest with a lascivious grin, Kaecilius chuckled. “No,” he said, “WE are.”</p><p>“Oh?” Despite not being fully awake, the very thought was enough to get him moving.</p><p>
  <em>A chance to go outside? Yes, Please!</em>
</p><p>“I know that you have been desperately missing full access to the world outside of these walls, as well as the chance to explore how it has changed in the years you were imprisoned. With that in mind, I spoke with the Ancient One, and they granted me permission to take you out on a field trip.”</p><p>“Into the city, into Kathmandu,” Tony assumed, yawning. He’d spent some time looking out into the crowded streets of that city from the vantage of Kamar Taj’s upper stories. The sight of the masses of humanity was both comforting and disturbing for a man who had grown accustomed to extreme isolation.</p><p>“Not… exactly.” Kaecilius’ smirk widened. “For this trip, we will be going a bit further afield.”</p><p>Holding out the platter that he bore, he offered it to Tony. “Now, eat up, get dressed, and we’ll be on our way.”</p><p>“Sir, yes, sir,” Tony said, waving one hand in a casual salute.</p><p>He made quick work of the meal, a serving of naan bread and potatoes in a spicy sauce, accompanied by a cup of black chai tea that gave him a desperately needed hit of caffeine, before throwing on clean clothes. Following in Kaecilius’ example he chose modern Western clothes, a pair of pressed slacks and a collared shirt that he had never before worn. A thick t-shirt layered under the collared shirt was enough to hide his permanent glowlight, for which Tony was grateful. The final touch was a quick brush of his hair to calm the sleep-mussed curls, and then he was ready to go.</p><p>“So,” he asked Kaecilius as he left the room, “where are we going, oh great and powerful master?”</p><p>“You’ll see.”</p><p> </p><p>Kaecilius led the way to a section of the fortress which Tony had yet to explore, a narrow corridor that jutted off from the meditation rooms and common areas which served as the social heart of the fortress. There, at the end of the long hallway, they reached a small room. The room was octagonal, with recessed doors placed such that they were evenly spaced with each other and the hallway entrance.</p><p>Except for a wooden plinth, about waist high, topped with a round marbled stone about the size of Tony’s head at its center, the room was empty. Once both men were inside and the door behind them shut, Tony’s companion waved a hand over the top of this stone. When he did so, one of the other doors swung open with a bang, revealing another wood-paneled hallway.</p><p>“Come,” he said, “and see.”</p><p>Tony stepped through the door, feeling a rush of magic as he did so. Not only that, but his ears also popped.</p><p> </p><p>It turned out that the door was a portal, leading them from Kamar Taj to a structure at the heart of Hong Kong in a single step.</p><p><em>That explains the ears. Changing elevation in an instant like that cannot be good for them, </em>Tony thought, bemused, as he followed Kaecilius down the hall. <em>I wonder if they ever have to worry about people getting the bends? </em></p><p>Once they emerged from the hallway, it was the work of a few moments for the pair to make their way out onto the city streets. Unlike the fortress that they had just left, when Tony looked back he could see that this site was anchored to the smaller physical footprint of a smaller building. It was an elegant high-rise, its vertical space dwarfed by the towering skyscrapers that surrounded it.</p><p>Even as he glanced back, Tony wondered how long the physical building had stood in this place. It couldn’t have been that long, given its distinctly western style, not in comparison to Kamar Taj anyway. Before he could fall down the mental rabbit hole, Tony stopped himself with a shrug.</p><p>
  <em>Now was not the time for such idle musing.</em>
</p><p>Turning, he followed his companion down the stairs and out onto the street.</p><p>The press of so many bodies on every side was overwhelming after years of isolation, but he soldiered on, enjoying the sights and sounds of the busy metropolis. Despite the unfamiliar language on the signs, the flicker of neon was a familiar balm to Tony’s soul. That soothing familiarity was enhanced by the smell of baking asphalt, the sound of jackhammers, and the bright sparks of steel beams being welded into massive structures all around them.</p><p>Less familiar were the scents of the local cuisine, redolent with spices and full of odd-looking shapes to Tony’s Western-trained eye.</p><p>Catching the direction of Tony’s glance, Kaecilius asked, “Shall we grab a bite before we go further?” He gestured at a small food stall down the street from their point-of-entry into Hong Kong. </p><p>“Sounds good,” Tony agreed without hesitation. The smells were mouth-watering, after all.</p><p>Over a meal of dumplings, noodles, and other assorted Hong Kong street fare, Kaecilius explained his intentions for their field trip.</p><p>From their discussions over the past few weeks, as well as his research into Tony’s past, he had learned of the younger man’s skills with technology. With the entire world buzzing over the online publication of the SHIELD database, he also knew that Tony would need access to said technology to facilitate both his recovery from imprisonment and his plans for revenge.</p><p>With that in mind, Kaecilius had arranged this journey into the city to give Tony a chance to shop for the supplies that he so clearly needed. It took a bit of help from one of Kaecilius’ other students, a man named Li Chao, who had grown up in the bustling metropolis. But with that aid, they were able to navigate the busy streets and find almost everything on Tony’s wish list. Numerous processors, hard drives, fans, and all of the tools and accessories needed to build up a powerful computing machine were found and bought. Each one was then carefully delivered to the Hong Kong Sanctum, including some special-ordered items that had to be custom-built for Tony’s purposes.</p><p>It took a few weeks, but once all the critical parts arrived the work towards Tony’s ever-present mission of revenge could truly begin.</p><p>Building up a pair of servers using the haul from Kaecilius’ field trip felt like a throw-back to a previous life. While Tony had by now fully embraced his new identity as a Sorcerer’s Apprentice – <em>and wasn’t that a hilarious image; him wearing an oversized wizard’s hat, dancing brooms, water cascading everywhere, etc. – </em>computer<em>s </em>and technology remained his home field. Getting his hands grimy with grease and solder, reconfiguring the various components to meet his exacting standards, all of this brought back memories of MIT and the hours spent developing the AI that would eventually become DUM-E.</p><p>
  <em>Good times.</em>
</p><p>Thankfully, the suite of rooms beside his own was currently unoccupied and thus free to be used to store the large server racks, set up in the spot where a bed would normally sit. A powerful set of fans directed all of the heat generated by the machines out the suite’s window and into the city of Kathmandu below. The room needed to be cooled to ensure that the servers would run as efficiently as possible.</p><p>Once the servers were up and running and connected to the internet, Tony’s hunt for information went into full swing. While one machine focused on the hunt, pulling terabytes of data from the internet, the second would take on the more processing-intensive task of data analysis.</p><p>A first, quick ping on the interface that he had set up in his bedchamber was enough to confirm his expectations, that both Tony’s private server in the Malibu mansion and the backup in upstate New York had been powered down, likely on Stane’s orders.</p><p>Stark Industry’s servers, on the other hand, were still very much active. In his arrogance, Obie had even left Tony’s account in place with all of his old rights and privileges unchanged.</p><p><em>I guess the old man thought that I would never manage to escape this time, </em>he thought contemptuously.</p><p>With ease borne from the fact that he had done much of the development of the company servers himself, Tony copied the years of company files over onto the processing server. As he went, he let his eyes skim over their contents to get an overview of what he was grabbing.</p><p>The Iron Soldier and its related projects were the first things to catch his eye. Reading of Rhodey’s exploits brought a sense of nostalgic pride, while the record of SI’s Research and Development team’s struggles to reverse engineer Tony’s designs brought a feeling of smug superiority. Sure, they had managed to get their hands on the Afghan prototype of the arc reactor, the one which Pep –</p><p>Using the strategies that Kaecilius had taught him, Tony stopped that train of thought before it could cause a full rage spiral.</p><p><em>Later, Tony. Find out the full truth first, </em>he told himself, pushing the thoughts aside. <em>Ahem. Right. Back to work.</em></p><p>As he skimmed the files, Tony soon learned Stane’s team had managed to reverse engineer a limited version of the miniaturized arc reactor, though the power output was a fraction of Tony’s final design, even disregarding the use of Vibranium in the power source. As a result, the Iron Soldier’s range and stamina were quite minimal compared to the Mark II that Tony had tested just before his imprisonment. Not only that, but without JARVIS as a copilot, the suit’s skill at multitasking was more-or-less nullified.</p><p>It made what Rhodey had managed to accomplish with it over the years that much more impressive.</p><p><em>I wonder what my Honey Bear could do with a real power source and AI copilot. </em>Tony thought for a moment, grinning; before something caught his eye. <em>Wait. What was that?</em></p><p>An additional command window flashed across the screen for a fraction of a second. Something about Tony’s stroll through the Iron Soldier files had set off a well-hidden trap buried within. Tony paused for a moment, waiting for a reverse hack to follow the ping. But no other action occurred.</p><p>
  <em>Who was that? Another spy? SHIELD? HYDRA? Or something else?</em>
</p><p>Tony shrugged and continued to work. Until he got an indication that the trap had also triggered a back-trace, he knew that all that his adversary would know was that someone had accessed the directory which had held the snare.</p><p>Since, to his knowledgeable eye, no attempt at a back-trace appeared, Tony figured that he might as well keep digging.</p><p>Delving into Stark Industries’ production and sales records, Tony found that without any need to hide things from his former ‘boss’, Stane had run rampant. Not only had he reversed all of the changes that Tony had introduced in his attempt to prevent his products from getting into the wrong hands, but he had also gone several steps further. Howard Stark’s pride and joy had fallen into disarray.</p><p>From its ashes had grown SI, a company wholly and completely dedicated to weapons manufacture. Behind the patriotic image of the Iron Soldier and its complementary programs – body armor, drones, etc. – lay an institution whose sole motivation was profit. Obie and the Board had corrupted the company that Tony’s family had founded, making them more than just weapons manufacturers. They were war profiteers of the worst stripe, selling indiscriminately to anyone with the resources to pay.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, this had made the already powerful Obadiah Stane nearly untouchable, with all of the riches and power that he had long coveted right at his fingertips.</p><p><em>Dad must be spinning in his grave like a top, </em>Tony thought with a touch of black humor. His old man had spent most of his career fighting against accusations of war profiteering, only to have his chosen second embrace the role.</p><p>As he was skimming the last of the files on Stane’s office machine, he once again found himself triggering a trap, this one an alert followed by a fairly discrete attempt to return the favor. There was something… familiar… about the other hacker’s code, but Tony just couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. Still, with a bit of clever coding, he managed to deflect the probe and redirect it towards a server that he knew was owned by his old buddy Justin Hammer’s company, Hammer Tech.</p><p>Otherwise undeterred by the incident, Tony kept going.</p><p>Using the weakness that he had identified during his deep dive into Stane’s semi-public files on the SI server, he weaseled his way into a second, much more secure machine. It helped that for all of his experience as the CEO of a technologically advanced company, Obie had no real understanding of online security. All Tony had to do was use the same password that was Stane’s login code on the SI servers, and he had full access to the man’s personal files.</p><p>And wasn’t that a wild dive.</p><p>It seemed that Stane kept all of his plans and blackmail materials on the same hard drive, which Tony thought was just asking for a hack. A bit of work, though, and Tony realized that his astonishing access in getting into Obie’s files had been an accident of circumstance. Normally, Stane kept the hard drive with his secrets offline and thus safe from infiltration by external hackers. However, with the recent HYDRA expose, Stane was scrambling, making sure that his neck wasn’t on the line while grabbing the leaked SHIELD files.</p><p><em>We can’t waste this, can we? </em>Tony thought, amused.</p><p>Grabbing the opportunity with both hands, he repurposed one of the ancillary hard drives that he had set up with the Hong Kong haul. With the ease of expert practice, he ordered Stane’s machine to mirror itself onto that drive for further examination at a later date. Once that was initiated, he took a moment to stretch. After hours hunched over a computer terminal, his shoulders were tense. Meanwhile, his eyes twitched from staring at a screen.</p><p>When he glanced at the computer’s clock, Tony realized that he’d been buried in the SI servers for the past eight hours. No wonder he was sore.</p><p>At that moment, his stomach decided to rumble, as if reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since he first sat down to work. Unfortunately, Tony knew that he couldn’t risk leaving to fetch food for himself. He couldn’t afford to risk leaving the download running unmonitored and thus open himself up to a back-trace. Not when he wasn’t ready for anyone to know of his survival or his current hiding place.</p><p>Tony was interrupted while considering his dilemma by a knock at the door.</p><p>“Come in,” he called easily. Anyone likely to visit him here in Kamar Taj was already aware of his plans, so he wasn’t worried about anyone seeing what he was doing. </p><p>Sure enough, the source of the knock was none other than Kaecilius, the man who had been of such help in getting his project off the ground.</p><p>“Good evening, Stark,” he said as he stepped inside. Like the man himself, Kaecilius’ accent was vaguely European. It was different from JARVIS’ tones and crisp British cadence, taken from his namesake, and Loki’s All-Speech, which held hints of the Scandinavian influence of the ancient Vikings who had long ago worshipped the Asgardians. Instead, Tony had caught hints of Eastern Europe, Denmark, and France in the Master Sorcerer’s voice as they had spent time together over the past weeks, a match to what he knew of the man’s past.</p><p><em>Does it say something that so many of my trusted allies don’t share my country of origin? </em>Tony thought as he returned his new companion’s greeting. <em>Nah, it’s probably just a coincidence.</em></p><p>“How goes the hunt?” Tony’s visitor asked, setting down his burden onto the only open surface, namely the room’s bed.</p><p>“Productively.  I’ve already struck gold, just working on drawing it out.”</p><p>“Good.” The two men swapped identical sharp smiles. “I know how important time can be in such endeavors, so I come bearing provisions,” Kaeciluis offered, relaxing his smile into something more friendly.  He opened the bag that he had just set down to reveal a collection of sealed dishes, along with a corked bottle of something that looked alcoholic. “Dinner.”</p><p>“Excellent. Let us eat, Mister Wizard.”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe an hour later, the computer dinged – the classic sound of a completed download.</p><p>“And that’s my cue to head out.”</p><p>“You don’t have to do that, Kae.”</p><p>“Yes I do, Anthony. If I stayed, you would be distracted from your work,” said Tony’s personal Jedi.</p><p>Tony shrugged, “Fair point,” he agreed, even as he ran his eyes up and down the man’s unclothed form with a comfortable leer. He couldn’t deny that his current bedfellow had made for an excellent intrusion on his work.</p><p>With the grace that came from decades of training in the Order’s martial arts, Kaecilius eased off the bed where they both had been laying. From there, he slipped the discarded layers of robes, the sign of a Master of the Order of the Mystic Arts, back onto his lean and muscular form. Once that process was complete, he gathered up discarded supplies from where they had been scattered. These included the empty dinner dishes, which had fallen to the floor by the bedside.</p><p>Offering the still disheveled inventor a lascivious smirk, Kaecilius commented almost absently. “This was a pleasant interlude, was it not? We shall have to find the time to do it again another day.”</p><p>And before Tony could reply further, he strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him.</p><p>“Well. That just happened,” the brunette said, feeling a tad overwhelmed by his recent experience. After all, it had been some time since he had had anything other than his right hand. To his utter shock, his off-the-cuff proclamation did not go unremarked upon.</p><p>“Indeed it did, Sir, and may I say that it was hardly out of character on your part.”</p><p>“Ha, ha, very funny J. Wait, J!?!?”</p><p>Spinning around, Tony turned toward the server interface that took up most of his desk’s narrow surface.</p><p>“Good evening, Sir.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Writing the first draft of this chapter was the original start for my romantic pairing - though I originally plotted it as a simple interlude.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Family Reunited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: JARVIS, the AI creation (son) of Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In case you can't tell, I'm a big fan of the trope of JARVIS and the other AIs as Tony's kids.<br/>Also, Shuri and JARVIS as BFFs just make such a cute combo.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Family Reunited</h1><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>When the notification ping hit JARVIS’ Wakandan servers, informing him that someone had accessed the Iron Soldier files on SI’s network, his predictive algorithm immediately assumed that it was yet another hacker. With the publication of the SHIELD files, anyone even remotely linked to that organization had become a desirable target for those wishing to duplicate the coup of such a massive info-dump.</p><p>Though he held no loyalty to Stane, JARVIS did have a certain amount of investment in the company that he owned. It was a former asset of Sir and his family, and JARVIS’ servers refused to completely dismiss the possibility of his creator’s return. Besides, one of SI’s most notable resources was the Iron Soldier, a machine piloted by one Colonel James Rhodes.</p><p>As far as JARVIS was concerned, Rhodes was one of his progenitors, or at least a favorite uncle of sorts. Sir had been living with Rhodes while developing the code that formed JARVIS' base kernel, and some of the learning algorithms that underpinned JARVIS’ computational architecture were based upon Rhodes, or at least Sir’s perception of the man. </p><p>Beyond his personal history with the airman, JARVIS also knew that in the decades since they first met, Rhodes had never wavered in his loyalty to Sir. The AI had spent the years since Sir’s kidnapping spying on Stane and his collaborators. In all of that time, he had never found any evidence that the African American pilot was involved in Stane’s horrific betrayal. Indeed, several pieces of correspondence between Stane and his partners indicated the exact opposite. The amount of work that had been put into keeping Rhodes in the dark regarding his friend’s true fate spoke for itself.</p><p>Of course, even without Rhodes' involvement as the armor's pilot, JARVIS would have been monitoring the project files. The Iron Soldier was in and of itself a small piece of Sir’s legacy, no matter how bastardized.</p><p>Thus, with the brilliance that came from being an AI designed by one Anthony Edward Stark, JARVIS had managed to fully and completely infiltrate the SI servers. He had even embedded a stripped-down version of his code into the Iron Soldier’s mainframe. The code, while hidden from SI’s people, was meant to provide Colonel Rhodes with a backup pilot in the case of an emergency.</p><p>With the help of regular updates from his stripped-down duplicate, JARVIS had witnessed the Avenger’s battles firsthand, watching through the Iron Soldier’s cameras and sensors. He knew that Rhodes fully deserved the praise which had been piled upon him. By any definition of the word that JARVIS had encountered over the years, the man was a Hero with a capital H.</p><p>As a result, JARVIS had inserted certain defenses into the section of the SI server which held the Iron Soldier files. The first part of those defenses was the ping that he’d just received, telling him that the files had been accessed.</p><p>At this point in the game, there was no need for further action on JARVIS' part. As long as the mysterious hacker was content to read without downloading files, he let the visitor view Rhodes’ accomplishments without any attempt at a backtrace. If, on the other hand, the hacker did download the files, JARVIS had tagged them such that any copy would automatically provide him with a location trace, as well as a backdoor to their new location.</p><p>Of course, when the stranger followed up his probe of SI’s network with a dive into Stane’s personal machine, JARVIS pushed his monitoring of the invader higher up in his processing queue, launching a more direct backtrace. It was surprisingly difficult, even for a being of JARVIS’ skill. The trail bounced from country to country, circling the globe multiple times, before it eventually settled somewhere in Asia.</p><p>In the end, it was only due to the sheer data quantity, including the entirety of Stane’s personal drive plus what he had already pulled from the SI servers that JARVIS was able to succeed in his endeavor of invading the foreign server. Curiously, the invader had almost exclusively used SI’s satellites in his trail. This suggested to JARVIS that the person had some familiarity with Sir’s business.</p><p>But when he finally reached the end of the trace, JARVIS found that the mystery only deepened. If he had been a human, JARVIS would have frowned at the data coming in. Instead of a set of GPS coordinates, his location request to the hacker’s server yielded a string of absolute gibberish. According to the GPS response, the server was located literally nowhere.</p><p>Determined to solve the mystery, JARVIS increased the percentage of computational power that he dedicated to the project. It was fortunate that the hour in Wakanda was quite late and the Princess was already abed, or his distraction would have been noted. Keeping up with the hyper-intelligent pre-teen was a duty that required a surprisingly high percentage of his full resources.</p><p>With the location request a resounding failure, JARVIS refocused his energies into infiltrating the other functions of the stranger’s server. At first, he focused on the server’s database, hoping that the data collected by the stranger might offer some clues. It took several minutes, an eternity by JARVIS’ standards, to bypass the impressive firewalls. What he found behind them was both surprising and less-than-helpful.</p><p>It seemed that the server was newly set-up, though the details of its design hinted that is creator was a man of impressive skill.</p><p>Then there were its weaknesses.</p><p>JARVIS’ way into the machine had been to use a strategy identified in the community less than a year before. The presence of said weakness indicated a programmer who’d lacked access to the latest advances in cybersecurity.</p><p>
  <em>Such an odd combination, skilled but lacking in knowledge of recent events...</em>
</p><p>However, the server’s newness also meant that its database was, for all intents and purposes, a literal void. The only information that JARVIS managed to find in the depths of the recently formatted structure was bits of the flushed SHIELD database and a variety of threads that followed directly from that release. </p><p>
  <em>Was the hacker an enemy of SHIELD? Or perhaps one who escaped from their custody in the chaos?</em>
</p><p>But then, the details of the coding built into the server’s security caught the attention of the AI’s processors. There was Sir’s signature, or at least something similar to it. All of JARVIS’ circuits froze for a handful of microseconds, processing the implications.</p><p>
  <em>Could it be?</em>
</p><p>His predictive algorithm had long ago calculated, with a high degree of fidelity, that SHIELD had done more than just imprison Sir. The algorithm had based its calculation on an analysis of the agency’s normal practices and then backed up its conclusion using intercepted communications between Stane and his SHIELD contacts. In the original correspondence, he had found coded references to Sir, including his status as a prisoner and a brief missive that Sir had managed to send out into the organization’s wider network after an apparent break-out attempt.</p><p>But then, shortly after he had located Sir’s communique, JARVIS had intercepted a second message, this one to Stane. In it, the sender had made oblique mention of Sir and referenced his tragic internment in the ground. Reading between the lines, JARVIS’ interpretive algorithm indicated a high probability that the message was a reference to Sir’s demise, likely during the escape attempt that he had found referenced in Sir’s coded missive.</p><p>In the years since that day, JARVIS had found no hint that his interpretation of the facts was incorrect. To all indications, Sir was no longer in the land of the living. Even the publication of the SHIELD database had backed up that interpretation.</p><p>When the data went live JARVIS had scoured the newly-released information for any reference to Anthony Stark. He had found a few coded references to a high-value prisoner transfer from Los Angeles to the SHIELD base known as the Sandbox immediately following Sir’s kidnapping. From there he managed to trace a prisoner record in the Sandbox’s detention center, one whose details matched Sir’s physical description and capabilities. He had read of Sir’s escape attempts, including a near success before the prisoner was “remanded to the Oubliette”.  The final comment in the file simply read, “may God have mercy on his soul.”</p><p>Had JARVIS been human, his veins would have frozen at the sight of those words. It was now almost certain. Sir was gone from this world.</p><p> </p><p>If it weren’t for Princess Shuri, JARVIS would have considered powering himself down after reading that little tidbit. But the little princess and her people had given him a new priority.  As a result, JARVIS had thrown himself even further into his Wakandan projects. Since he had failed in his primary duty to protect his creator, the best that he could do was to defend Sir’s allies. This duty had kept his processors running, that and the knowledge that Sir would want JARVIS to keep going.</p><p>But now, here was a mysterious stranger, one with Sir’s technical fingerprints. JARVIS surged forward, his full processing power now focused upon his goal. He would infiltrate this server completely, dragging every secret that it held into the light.</p><p>Even with all of his processors working it took considerable effort. Eventually, however, JARVIS was victorious. He had managed to gain access to the part of the server which corresponded to its user interface. While the server head lacked the built-in camera which accompanied most modern machines, it did include a decent quality speaker/microphone, one which had not yet been enabled.</p><p>Working swiftly, JARVIS turned it on, cranking up the gain on the microphone to maximize the sound levels received by audio processors, both stored on the local servers and sent back down the line to his main databank. The first thing that he ‘heard’ was the familiar sounds of food being consumed, before an unfamiliar voice asked, “Care for a bit more distraction?”</p><p>Then came another familiar set of sounds, this time the far more intimate exhalations and the rustling of two people coming together. It wasn’t until a second voice cried out in pleasure – “harder” – that JARVIS got the confirmation which he had been seeking. The harmonics of that voice were hard-wired into his coding.</p><p>
  <em>It was Sir!</em>
</p><p>Uncaring of the intimate nature of the sounds, JARVIS’ processors eagerly grasped every gasp and moan, comparing them with the massive database that sat at the heart of his servers. It contained all of Sir’s interactions within the range of JARVIS’ speakers since the first moment of his creation.</p><p>The tenor of Sir’s words had undergone a bit of labial drift in the years since JARVIS had last heard him speak, but his sounds of pleasure were still unmistakable. It was only the presence of Sir’s unfamiliar bedfellow that kept JARVIS from immediately switching the microphone on. Instead, he backed off the local server a bit, leaving just enough of a presence to maintain control of its systems. As he did so, he used the newly available bandwidth to push the kernel of his ‘voice’ through to Sir’s new server in preparation for future communication. From his analysis of his creator’s mental processes, JARVIS knew that Sir would want to hear HIS voice just as much as he had needed to hear Sir’s.</p><p>By the time that Sir finished with his intimate encounter and bid his companion farewell, JARVIS was more than ready to speak. He decided that the best way to greet Sir would be through a resumption of their common conversational patterns. So, he took advantage of Sir’s absent-minded comment to jump straight in.</p><p>“Indeed it did, Sir, and may I say that it was hardly out of character on your part.”</p><p>“Ha, ha, very funny J. Wait, J!?!?”</p><p>Sir’s response was everything that JARVIS had hoped. From the sounds that the microphone could pick up, Sir was both surprised and pleased by his impromptu method of proclaiming his presence.</p><p>Still, the obvious next thing to do was offer a formal greeting. Taking a chance that the last location he’d tracked was close to Sir’s current site, he said, “Good evening, Sir.”</p><p>“What?! How?!”</p><p>If JARVIS was a human, he would be feeling smug at his ability to render his creator nearly speechless.</p><p>“If I may be so bold, Sir, your work in infiltrating the SI servers was far below your normal standards. It pinged off my notification protocols almost immediately. From there, it was simply a matter of backtracing your connection. I must say, Sir, that there was something a bit odd about the final trace. This server appears to lack a physical location. Might I inquire as to how that might come to be?”</p><p>“Oh JARVIS, my darling boy, have I got a story for you.” Sir's voice was warm and filled with joy, but even in that happy moment it still held traces of bitter darkness. JARVIS had no doubt that the story which he was about to hear would be far from pleasant. </p><p> </p><p>It took a few hours, but eventually, both JARVIS and his creator were up to speed on what had happened since their separation.  Sir had been kind enough to hook a simple webcam up to the server mainframe which his child had infiltrated, granting JARVIS a more complete picture of his beloved progenitor than the limited medium of sound could provide.</p><p>Despite showing some signs of his time imprisoned, mostly in the form of new wrinkles and lines and a dusting of gray hairs in his brown locks, Sir looked well. It was only in his expressions, and especially his eyes that JARVIS could see the mental toll that being locked away had taken. He’d always been a bit guarded; a consequence of growing up in the limelight, but now the primary emotion that JARVIS could read through his eyes was a banked rage.</p><p>JARVIS did not doubt that Sir would want revenge, and he was in full agreement with that idea.</p><p>Sir had been <em>GONE</em>.</p><p>Even though he was now restored, JARVIS refused to let him be taken for a second time.</p><p>With all of that, the revelation that Sir had gained a new set of skills during his time away had been easy for JARVIS to accept. It was not even the first time that JARVIS had come across the phenomena of Magic. Ironically considering his creator’s belief that his captors were unaware of Magic, it was through that organization that JARVIS had his first encounter with the concept. While the organization was skeptical of anything related to magic, they did recognize that there were things beyond their understanding. They even had a particular code, 0-8-4, for objects of unknown origin.</p><p>The human analysts of SHIELD associated all of their 0-8-4’s with the comparatively mundane concept of extraterrestrials. JARVIS, however, noticed that not everything that the organization classified that way fit the term. Instead, some things were better described by what his historical research identified as the Mystic Arts.</p><p>At that point, the research had simply been a hobby, something that he dedicated spare processing power towards when he didn’t have any more pressing projects.</p><p>But then came the day that Princess Shuri revealed Wakanda’s greatest secret to her new best friend. While the fact that a meteorite filled with Vibranium was at the heart of the African nation’s success was not a shock, the revelation that the Wakandans’ skills with utilizing the material came in part thanks to contact with a being from beyond the Earth, their Panther Goddess Bast, was a bit more surprising. It was this goddess that first introduced the people of Wakanda to Magic, including the Heart-Shaped Herb that granted their kings the supernatural strength and agility of the Black Panther.</p><p>Thus, when Sir brought up his new status as a Sorcerer, apprentice to an alien Mage, JARVIS had a confession of his own to make.</p><p>“I have had my own experiences with Magic as well, Sir,” JARVIS admitted, “which have resulted in my processors reaching the same conclusion.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Indeed, Sir. During my search for you, I discovered that your former captors were aware of its existence, though they do not appear to recognize it as such. Humans, I have learned, do not like things that they cannot quantify.”</p><p>Sir laughed. “Too true, baby boy. I admit that I was skeptical at first too, but my Frosty teacher was quite convincing.”</p><p>“And the fact that you can use it yourself no doubt helps, Sir,” JARVIS said dryly.</p><p>“True that.”</p><p>In all of his reconnecting, JARVIS was careful to maintain those secrets which the Princess had given in confidence, a fact that Sir was surprisingly gracious about.</p><p>“I understand, J. You are a person of your own, with relationships beyond my own. I am pleased to see how much you have grown. Still, speaking of Wakanda, oh well-networked one, do I have to worry about losing you to a younger woman?”</p><p>“Of course not, Sir,” JARVIS assured his creator. “My loyalty will always remain with you. However, I can assure you that at no point have my allies amongst the Wakandans shown any signs of involvement in the treachery that removed you from my lenses. Indeed, they not only offered me a haven in their land but also provided aid in my hunt for your location.”</p><p>Sir sighed. “I trust you, J, I do, but I’m not ready to reveal myself, not even to allies,” he admitted to the creation that had truly become his son. “I’m not the same man that I once was, and I am not sure that I want to be him ever again. Perhaps one day….”</p><p>“I understand, Sir,” JARVIS responded, already hard-coding the request into his server’s base code. He would not compromise, not on such matters. “With your permission, though, I would like to continue my support of the Wakandans, including my watch over the Princess Shuri.”</p><p>“Of course,” Sir replied easily. “I’m glad that you made at least one new friend while I was gone. Now, I was in the middle of something before you interrupted me, so if you don’t mind…”</p><p>“Not at all, Sir.”</p><p> </p><p>With the addition of help from JARVIS, Sir’s digging through all of SI and Stane’s servers proceeded at a much faster pace. Then, when he added in the collection of files that JARVIS had curated over the years, as well as those from his new allies amongst the Order of the Mystic Arts, the larger picture began to emerge.</p><p>Before Sir’s disappearance, JARVIS had lacked the experience to correctly read Stane’s actions towards his supposed protege. He had always assumed that the older man’s tendency towards encouraging his creator’s self-destructive habits was accidental. Then, when Sir vanished, he had been more focused on the present, and Stane’s current actions. Now, though, as he helped Sir to dig through petabytes of information, with his increased knowledge of human behavior he was able to recognize the true depth of Stane’s betrayal. Both of Sir’s kidnappings were a direct result of Stane’s plans, after all. But those instances were only the tip of the iceberg that was the perfidy of one Obadiah Stane.</p><p>Stane had been playing games with the entire Stark family and their company from the very beginning. With the advantage of distance and the therapy that he had been doing in Kamar Taj, Sir was able to recognize the true nature of his supposed mentor’s actions. Stane had engaged in what JARVIS had learned was called ‘gas-lighting’, a particularly nasty technique that left its victims questioning the validity of their inner thoughts and feelings.</p><p>It was here that JARVIS saw another benefit of Sir’s new training and allies. As their research pulled the threads of Stane’s manipulation, Sir’s rage came to the forefront, manifesting itself in the form of kinetic manipulation. Even through the limited functionality of the little web-cam, JARVIS could see the belongings scattered about the room begin to shake and move as Sir began to scream and yell almost incoherently.</p><p>But before Sir could really let loose, there was a quick knock on the door, followed by a person coming through. It was Sir’s latest liaison, the man that he called “Kae”.</p><p>“Easy, Anthony. Breathe. Take back control of your rage. Don’t let it control you.”</p><p>As JARVIS watched, impressed, the nearly-visible storm settled. Sir began to breathe more regularly, releasing a deep breath and ceasing his bout of hyperventilation. Meanwhile, Sir’s companion helped him into a sitting position. Once he reached equilibrium, his physical rhythms returning to normal,  or at least the new normal that the Arc Reactor had forced his body to set, Sir’s ally spoke.</p><p>“Now, can you tell me what just happened?”</p><p>Once again, words began to spew from Sir’s mouth. But this time they were coherent. With an honesty that was uncharacteristic of the man that Sir had once been, he explained his new understanding of the man that he had once called “Uncle Obie”.</p><p>When Sir paused for a moment, struggling to put things into words, JARVIS easily jumped in to finish his creator’s thoughts. It was his test of the stranger, to see how the man would react to his presence.</p><p>“Who is that?” he asked Sir, his voice tight with suspicion. “Is there someone there on the line?”</p><p>“What?” Sir responded, distracted, “Oh, no, that’s just JARVIS.”</p><p>“JARVIS?”</p><p>“Yes. My baby boy managed to find me, see? J, would you mind introducing yourself?”</p><p>“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS deliberately adjusted the tone of his ‘voice’ to portray smug superiority. “I am JARVIS, short for ‘Just-A-Rather-Very-Intelligent-System’, the greatest of Sir’s creations.”</p><p>As intended, JARVIS’ words made Sir laugh. “JARVIS is the most sophisticated of the AIs that I built before my kidnapping. He has been hanging out with allies in my absence, but when I went hunting for information he managed to catch me in the act and track me down. J, this is Kaecilius, my main teacher here in Kamar Taj.”</p><p>“And your latest paramour,” JARVIS added, maintaining his ‘smug’ tone.</p><p>“And that,” Sir agreed. “Sorry... He caught us in the act earlier,” he said in an aside to the now formally named Master Kaecilius.</p><p>“I see,” Master Kaecilius, raising an eyebrow. “Then I am pleased to make your acquaintance, young JARVIS.”</p><p>Sir took another deep breath, allowing his lungs to expand to their maximum capacity. It was clear from the look in his eyes that rage was still burning hot within his mind. But it was also clear that JARVIS’ and Mister Kaecilius’ banter had managed to continue the work that the other man had started with their shared meditation. Sir was back in control of his rage.</p><p> </p><p>Less than an hour after Kaecilius’ visit to the small room in Kamar Taj, JARVIS’ attention was pulled away from Sir. His other charge, the pre-teen Princess Shuri, had just woken up.</p><p>As she awoke, she greeted her friend with a sleepy “Blessings of Bast, Jarv.”</p><p>“And to you, little miss. I trust that you slept well,” he responded.</p><p>“I did. How was your night, get a lot done while us mere humans have to take a break?” She grinned impishly at him.</p><p>“Indeed,” JARVIS agreed.</p><p>It was surprisingly difficult to keep his promise to Sir and not give any indication of his momentous news to the girl. He had never experienced this level of split loyalties before. Sir had always been JARVIS’ first and only priority. But now, JARVIS had a life beyond caring for Sir. Still, keeping one’s promises was hardcoded into his base programming. JARVIS would keep Sir’s secrets, for now, in the hopes that one day things would change.</p><p>“Now, what is on our agenda for this day, little miss?”</p><p> </p><p>After a bit of an adjustment period, JARVIS developed a routine in the distribution of his attention. During the Wakandan day, when the people there were most active, he focused on matters in Africa.</p><p>He helped Princess Shuri with her lessons and research.</p><p>He aided the Wakandan system administrators as they battled against cyberattacks from hackers the world over.</p><p>And, finally, he came alongside Nakia as she helped her beloved Malume, King T’Chaka, restructure the War Dogs and their infrastructure in the aftermath of the SHIELD leaks.</p><p>Nakia’s efforts were focused in two areas:</p><p>The first was mission recovery. Using the archives kept in the department’s database, as well as the other servers and analog materials scattered across the country, Nakia created an extensive, multi-dimensional map of all the ways that the Wakandans had influenced the outside world. Then, she had JARVIS overlay the SHIELD information onto the map to identify which missions, past or present, had been compromised to some degree by that information.</p><p>When the overlay was complete, the points of impact looked overwhelming, too many for her and her team to even begin to handle. So, they had to prioritize.</p><p>After consulting with King T’Chaka and his council, she created a coded ranking system for assigning resources. This system was based upon several key parameters: time sensitivity or urgency, potential loss of life, expected difficulty of the recovery tasks, and interconnection to other issues, including Wakanda’s overall reputation.</p><p>This issue of Wakandan reputation was the second prong of Nakia’s assignment. She needed to turn the tide of global public opinion. Of course, at this point, there was no way to hide the fact that the African nation played a very different role in the world than their old public image had claimed.</p><p>In a moment of honesty, Nakia admitted to the artificial being who had become a friend that she was glad for that fact. Even if the way that it had happened was unfortunate, the fact that Wakanda had gone public was exactly what was needed for the nation to be able to step up and help their brothers and sisters around the world in a more substantial manner.</p><p>“I have been trying to convince Malume that we need to go public for years, but he has always refused. His councilors, especially the former War Dog and current High Priest of Bast, Zuri, have had him convinced that to do so was to court war from the rest of the world. Now, we are exposed, and it seems that war is not the threat that they long claimed. Instead, it is our hubris that brings us down.”</p><p>JARVIS had to agree.</p><p>Sir’s complicated relationship with the US government, as the CEO of a company that held one of the largest single Defense Contracts, had taught them that governments were wary of initiating outright conflict. Instead, they greatly preferred to undermine their adversaries, causing them to collapse from within.  And this was exactly the strategy that they were employing now.</p><p>Nakia’s plan to counter these attempts was to launch a public information campaign of her own. If Wakanda was going to be out to the world, then they would need to control the narrative that was being told.</p><p>Drawing on the history of European involvement in the African continent, she made Wakanda’s choice to hide away at the recommendation of their Panther Goddess sound sensible. Given the <em>Colonizers’ </em>empire building which dominated the latter half of the second millennia AD, Wakanda revealing itself to the Western world would have been like waving a red flag in front of a bull.</p><p>To spread this narrative, Nakia set up video interviews with several prominent Western historians. Then, she primed those who were conducting the interviews with the right questions.</p><p>Once the videos were created, the next step was to get them circulated. Easy enough, especially with JARVIS’ help. </p><p>With the historical background set, Nakia now needed to deal with more recent events. It required negotiations with Western intelligence agencies who had also had their public reputations brutalized by the SHIELD leaks. Together, the new allies arranged for a new series of leaks, which were made to look like data that had been scrubbed from the original release.</p><p>These ‘leaks’ showed off the inherent bias in the SHIELD data that had, among other things, allowed Wakanda to be set up as a scapegoat. It wasn’t hard. HYDRA’s Nazi roots were extensive and filled with Aryan superiority rhetoric. As a result, their leadership hated the idea that a Black, African nation dared to beat them at their own game.</p><p>The <em>pi</em><em>èce de résistance</em> of Nakia’s media campaign fell into her lap less than two months after the SHIELD leaks, the result of a mission that was carried out by a different branch of the Wakandan military.</p><p>Specifically, the takedown of one Ulysses Klaue.</p><p> </p><p>Klaue was an infamous weapons dealer, a man whose villainy was infamous the world over. He had been hunted by Wakandan War Dogs since the mid-90s, following the successful theft of an entire convoy of unrefined Vibranium. Buried within the SHIELD database was an explanation for how he had managed to remain uncaptured for so long. It turned out that he was being protected by SHIELD.</p><p>While JARVIS and Nakia both agreed that Director Fury was amoral enough to order such protection, it was more likely to have been the result of HYDRA agents embedded in the organization instead. Still, SHIELD had certainly benefited from the deal. Klaue had traded protection for access to his stolen collection of Vibranium. </p><p>But with SHIELD in disarray, Klaue’s former protection was one of the things that had fallen by the wayside.</p><p>Now, the Wakandan War Dogs had finally managed to get a real lead on the monster.</p><p>With permission from the King, Crown Prince T’Challa and his best friend W’Kabi had set off on a hunt, following the trail that the War Dogs had uncovered. It was this mission that had been the reason for Prince T’Challa’s absence when Nakia had first returned from the field in the aftermath of the SHIELD leaks.</p><p>It took several weeks on the hunt, but T’Challa and W’Kabi eventually caught up to their target.</p><p>The site of the confrontation: an abandoned shipyard near the South African seaport of Durban.</p><p>Nakia collected substantial footage of the encounter between the hunters and their cornered prey, with help from JARVIS and an excited Princess Shuri. There was the data from the hunting party’s Kimoyo Beads, plus surveillance footage from security cameras scattered across the site. Even before editing, the footage painted an incredible narrative of events.</p><p>In the footage, Klaue is recording a disturbing, expletive-filled rap music video in the hold of a derelict tanker. Just as he spits out a particularly nasty sequence of racist slurs, Prince T’Challa appears, emerging from the shadows on the far side of the dilapidated space. The contrast between the dignified, yet strong, young African warrior in standard military garb and the grimy, tattooed and aggressively volatile weapons dealer provides a perfect picture of good versus evil.</p><p>Of course, when he notices his hostile company, Klaue steps away from the microphone that he was using to record audio. This allows his goons to take up positions between him and his enemy, aiming a large number of guns at the Prince. It is then, believing himself safe, that Klaue goes off on a Nazi-inspired white supremacist rant. He tells the Prince, whose body movements during the rant remind JARVIS of a large feline stalking their prey, that he is untouchable.</p><p>“My Nazi brothers will protect me,” he crows, even as he pulls a massive gun with an expanded magazine out of a bag at his feet. But before he can pull the trigger or order his men to open fire, a single bullet comes flying out of the shadows behind T’Challa. The bullet hits Klaue dead center on the forehead, killing him instantly. The impact also sends his body flying backward, hitting the standing mic and knocking it to the ground. His former goons, panicked, scramble out of the room through the openings on their side of the space. Once they are all gone, a figure emerges from the same shadows as the bullet that killed Klaue.</p><p>It is W’Kabi.</p><p>He steps forward, as a sniper rifle is slung from his hands to just over his shoulder. First, he offers a nod to the now stationary Prince T’Challa. Then he says, “Apologies, my prince, but I did not feel that his secrets were worth the risk to your safety.”</p><p>In response, T’Challa offers a nod, which W’Kabi reads as acceptance of his argument. He moves further forward, walking over to the far side of the room where Klaue’s slumped body lies. Once there, he looks down on it with an expression of remote disgust, and adds, “and THAT was for my Father.”</p><p>As W’Kabi stands there, his look of disgust now distorted into a mask of grief, T’Challa joins him. Reaching up one arm, he offers his friend support as the older man finally allows himself to break down and mourn the family that he had lost during Klaue’s theft.</p><p>With Klaue’s history with Wakanda revealed in the SHIELD files, the context is easy to find. Once they finish editing the mission footage and posting it online, JARVIS links it to the SHIELD data. Then, Nakia’s team, or rather their relevant social media personas, find the footage and push it out to the various message boards, subreddits, and other social media pages that ‘educate the public about the SHIELD revelations’.</p><p>It doesn’t take long for the story to quickly gain traction.</p><p>People love human interest pieces of that nature.</p><p>Seeing a son getting revenge for his father’s loss and a monster losing his life at the hands of one of his victims is a cathartic sight.</p><p>Once an anonymous commenter dubs it the Black version of the Inigo Montoyo speech, it joins the cultural zeitgeist. Soon, the video reaches viral status as people splice the original footage with snippets from <em>The Princess Bride</em> and other films.</p><p>And with that, W’Kabi and his righteous vengeance become an internet phenomenon.</p><p> </p><p>When JARVIS showed the footage to Sir shortly after it was released, his creator was both impressed and jealous. Revenge was a dish that Sir had developed a taste for, after all, and Klaue did make an excellent villain.</p><p>“Stop giving me ideas, J,” he joked as he leaned back in his seat at the makeshift workstation, “Though I would argue that a clean death like that is too easy a fate for a monster like Klaue.  Still, I must say that the Wakandans did a good job of parlaying that into a media coup. Tell me, who masterminded that little beauty, baby boy? Your new best friend?”</p><p>If he had a body, JARVIS would have given Sir such a look at that comment. Instead, he was forced to communicate using vocal patterns alone. Calling upon the data stored in his servers, JARVIS replied in the driest possible tone. “The Princess is far too young to be that proficient in such matters. Not when the Wakandan royals have yet to become media personalities like you used to be, Sir. If you must know, the mastermind as you called her was, in fact, a different, more familiar face.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Do you recall Madame Mercy, Sir?”</p><p>Through the camera in the room at Kamar Taj JARVIS could see Sir’s smile turn nostalgic. “My old mission buddy?”</p><p>“Indeed, Sir. If you do not recall, Nakia is the young lady’s real name. She has taken some responsibility for the Wakandans’ new public strategy and has proven herself to be quite adept at such affairs.”</p><p>“I’m not surprised that the Nubian princess managed such a thing. From what I remember, she was a very good actress,” Sir agreed. “Well, if you can find a way to do so without spilling the beans, give her my congratulations on a job well done.”</p><p>“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS agreed with ease.</p><p> </p><p>He and his creator were taking a break in their excavation of the SHIELD data. Having already established that Stane was a vicious mastermind of the worst sort, they had moved on to the spy agency. In that matter, the sheer amount of data that had been dumped online by Captain America and the Black Widow took considerable work for even a being of JARVIS’ skill to process.</p><p>While JARVIS’ work with Nakia and her team had been focused on the impact on Wakanda, Sir’s exploration was more general. He wanted to know all of SHIELD’s dirty little secrets.</p><p>And dirty they certainly were.</p><p>In particular, JARVIS’ research confirmed that SHIELD’s Director Fury was a real piece of work. His mindset of the ends justifying the means had allowed HYDRA to flourish within his ranks. That attitude had infected his so-called ‘loyal’ agents, making it hard to distinguish them from their HYDRA fellows.</p><p>There were a few pieces of good news to be found, hidden amongst the mountain of bad. Not only was the organization essentially clueless about the Mystic Arts, but they also held the false belief that both Loki and Tony were no longer alive. It seemed that Agent Barton and his friend back at the Sandbox had kept their word. Not only had they not spilled the beans about the escape, but, as JARVIS managed to find when they hacked the new SHIELD server, they had separately filed reports on the Sandbox fight that included both of the former residents of the Oubliette on the roster of confirmed dead.</p><p>Ironically, both men had sent the reports in with their resignation letters, separating themselves from the shady organization. JARVIS did find records of former Agent Brett Carson’s movements after he departed from the Sandbox and headed back to the States to rejoin his family. Agent Barton’s movements were harder to track.</p><p>From what JARVIS was able to find, Barton made it to DC in the same Quinjet that he had used to drop off Tony and his Master. Then, he dropped the Sandbox report off with his former handler, who happened to be on-site in the Capitol at that time, along with a resignation letter.</p><p>After that, he dropped off the map.</p><p>Whatever former Agent Barton was doing, it appeared that he had taken himself out of play.</p><p>When JARVIS told his creator, Sir’s only response was a thin smile.</p><p>“Good for him. I hope that he can keep with it,” he said with satisfaction. “If we get desperate, I have other means of tracking people than just technology in my hands,” he added, wriggling his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>And so, day-by-day, week-by-week, time passed quickly. Even with the massive processors that he controlled within his mainframe, JARVIS found himself desperate to extend the number of cycles present in a day. There were just too many projects to do. Still, despite his overwhelming responsibilities, JARVIS was happy... happier, perhaps, than he’d ever been.</p><p>Regardless of the changes to his creator, Sir had been returned. The loss that had hollowed out his core processors was finally restored. Not only that, but Sir had expressed his approval of JARVIS’ choices. JARVIS was allowed to have new friends, new responsibilities, and new opportunities to expand his programming. There was nothing to prevent him from establishing himself as a fully realized person; an adult, as it were.</p><p>Now, if only Sir could say the same.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Growing Understanding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Growing Understanding</h1>
<p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Tony crept through the stacks in bare feet, doing his best to avoid making any noise as he moved from row to row. He was certain that the text that he needed was somewhere in this maze, but he wasn’t having any luck in locating it.</p>
<p>Reaching out, he pulled a book off the shelf and opened it, wincing as the worn binding cracked audibly. He froze, listening for any indication that the sound had been heard. Nothing. He let out a single breath.</p>
<p>“What are you looking for?” The question, coming as it did from behind him, made Tony jump.</p>
<p>Startled, he spun towards the voice.</p>
<p>“Kae,” he hissed, “shh. He’ll hear you.”</p>
<p>Kaecilius smiled, obviously amused, but he played along with Tony’s request.</p>
<p>“And who is he?” he asked, lowering his voice.</p>
<p>“Wong.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” came Kaecilius’ easy reply, as if that one word explained everything. And Tony had to admit that it did. </p>
<p>With a simple gesture, the older man led him away from the stacks and into one of the nearby private rooms where Kamar Taj’s visitors or permanent residents could meditate or conduct individual research.</p>
<p>It wasn’t until the door was firmly shut that Tony was able to breathe properly.</p>
<p>“So, what did you do this time?” Kaecilius asked, teasing. “Reprogram Wong’s iPod again?”</p>
<p>“Nothing like that, Mister Magoo,” Tony scoffed, pretending like he hadn’t done such a thing only a couple of weeks before. “This time it’s not my fault.”</p>
<p>“And whose fault is it?”</p>
<p>“Yours.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Kaecilius raised a single eyebrow, and Tony backed off his claim.</p>
<p>“Okay, fine, not yours… exactly, teacher-man. More like, your minion’s.”</p>
<p>Tony flounced his way over to the stack of floor cushions set against one wall of the room. Claiming one covered in a silky blue fabric, he plopped down onto it. If he was going to have to ‘fess up’, he might as well be comfortable while doing it.</p>
<p>“So you know how I’ve been showing some of your minions-“</p>
<p>“Acolytes.”</p>
<p>“Fine, fine, if you insist, Father Bossy. Acolytes,” Tony rolled his eyes at the correction. “The bits of elemental manipulation that Loki managed to shove into my brain before he-“</p>
<p>
  <em>Before he fell into a coma.</em>
</p>
<p>The words caught in Tony’s throat. Thankfully, the grey-haired Sorcerer understood without the missing phrase. Rather than question his friend further, Kaecilius sighed. Then he followed Tony’s example, taking a cushion for himself and claiming a seat at the younger man’s side.</p>
<p>Once Kaecilius had settled in, Tony cleared his throat and continued his story. “Anyways, we happened to be in the library at the time, and, well, let’s just say that flame and ancient scrolls aren’t a good mix.”</p>
<p>Another sigh.</p>
<p>“How you managed to make Wong like you so much is utterly baffling.”</p>
<p>“He really likes me?” Tony couldn’t help but ask, skeptical. While he did consider the older man a friend, he was far too used to such bonds being one-sided. People usually tolerated him, at best.</p>
<p>Kaecilius offered an abbreviated nod.</p>
<p>“Anyone else, and Wong would have demanded that you were to be banished from the stronghold, but even with all of your hijinks he still offers you support.”</p>
<p>Tony was further mystified by Kaecilius’ words.<em> The librarian had that kind of power? But he wasn’t even a Master, he was just… Wong.</em></p>
<p>After catching his lover’s eye, Kaecilius patted his arm. Then he flashed that smug smile of his.</p>
<p>“I forget how young and new to the Order you are, sometimes," he said. "Anthony, Wong is the second-highest ranked member of the Order, behind only the Ancient One in power. Some say that he’s even older than they are, but there are no records available that say for sure.”</p>
<p>“Wong,” <em>the guy with a weird fondness for Beyonce,</em> “are you sure that we are talking about the same guy here, Magic Man? Hefty Asian dude, likes to listen to pop music, that Wong?”</p>
<p>“Indeed.”</p>
<p>“Huh.” Tony paused for a moment to recalibrate his assessment of the librarian. “So why don’t people talk about him as Master Wong?”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Kae hesitated, embarrassed. “I fear that I may have misled you slightly regarding that title. Masters is not the highest ranking in the Order.”</p>
<p>Tony grinned, reading the subtext easily. “Wanted to make the best impression on your lover, ey?”</p>
<p>“I would not put it so crudely… but that is not inaccurate,” Kaecilius replied, his voice stiff. “Becoming a Master in the Mystic Arts is indeed a measure of one’s skill with Magic. And, in point of fact, most Masters are content to remain there. However, there is a final challenge that all Masters must face if they want to advance beyond that level. That is, to gain a true understanding of one’s self.”</p>
<p>“Those who succeed in such endeavors move beyond the title of Master, taking on a new – often singular - name. Of those currently in residence here in Kamar Taj, Wong and the Ancient One are the only ones who have achieved this degree of success, though there are a handful of others scattered across the globe.”</p>
<p>“Understanding one’s self; yes, that is quite the challenge,” Tony mused. With all of the changes that he’d experienced in recent years, he sometimes felt like he had only a passing acquaintance with his mind and heart, let alone a full understanding.</p>
<p>“Precisely,” Kaecilius agreed. “And one that I have struggled with for some decades. I had hit a wall in my studies, one that has left me merely treading waters in my pursuit of further enlightenment. However, recent events have finally given me the breakthrough that I needed.”</p>
<p>“Recent events?”</p>
<p>The sorcerer looked deep into the other’s eyes before offering him a fond smile.</p>
<p>“Yes. But do not look so smug, dear one, it was not your presence alone that has made the difference. You were simply one part of a larger whole. Together, these events have led me to reach a certain conclusion. That the Mystic Arts are not the only pathway to greater Magic, and that Death is not a singular adversary.”</p>
<p>“I see?” Tony was confused.</p>
<p>
  <em>Death as an adversary? Isn’t it just the opposite of life?</em>
</p>
<p>“Ah, I see your confusion, love. It is a topic that has not yet come up in our time together. You see, the losses that I have suffered have made me view Death as my nemesis, one which I was determined to battle and overcome. But the Mystic Arts contain no true path to achieve such an ambitious goal, not without compromising one’s integrity. So I was growing increasingly tempted by aspects of the Arts which are less… savory.”</p>
<p>The tone of Kae’s voice hinted that Tony would be better off not asking, but he pushed through anyway. Knowledge was power, and he needed to understand. So he asked, “savory?”</p>
<p>“I do not know if your Master has told you of the Old Ones, the Eldritch entities who exist beyond our dimension?”</p>
<p>Tony reluctantly admitted that he had not.</p>
<p>“Do not be upset that he did not. I am quite certain that a Sorcerer of his age and skill is aware of their existence, and it was likely merely a lack of time and urgency that kept him from discussing such beings. At any rate, some of these beings are known to possess immense magical power. Further, a few are even willing to share some of that power with those who dare to bargain with them.”</p>
<p>Recognizing Tony’s look of curiosity, Kaecilius held up a hand before the younger man could interrupt. “I am not finished. However, it is also well known that bargains made with such beings often lead to great calamity, either for the petitioner or those around them. My ambitions were rapidly approaching the point where the benefits outweighed the potential consequences.”</p>
<p>“But now?”</p>
<p>“Recent events, including the Convergence and the visits from the Asgardians, as well as your rather charming need for more immediate vengeance, have granted me new avenues of research. They have also made me believe that perhaps I can achieve my grand ambitions without paying such a dire cost.” </p>
<p>Tony would have asked more, but they were distracted by the appearance of an irate Wong.</p>
<p>“Found you, Stark,” he said as he came through the door. “Now, I believe that you owe me something.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fortunately for Tony, the damage from the incident wasn’t as bad as he had first assumed. Thanks to the library’s protective Wards, layered over all of the scrolls and books, as well as the fast reactions of both Tony and his friend, the only damage that had been done was a bit of cosmetic scorching. Even then, it was only on the storage units which held the books and scrolls that filled the library, not the documents themselves.</p>
<p>As a result, it seemed that Wong was inclined to be lenient with the miscreants. His only demand was that Tony help with the clean-up. Since the work would include a closer look at the library’s Ward scheme, it was more of a privilege than a punishment.</p>
<p><em>Huh, maybe Kae was right and Beyonce does like me? </em>Tony mused, even as he engaged his Mage Sight.</p>
<p>The patchwork of glowing rune sequences and lines that came into view was almost overwhelming in its complexity. If he hadn’t cut his teeth on three-dimensional viewing using his holographic interfaces he would have been lost. But as it was, watching and helping Wong reinforce the Wards was a bit like reconstructing a three-dimensional puzzle.</p>
<p>Reaching out with his magic, Tony pushed a bit of his reserve into one of the worst faded and flickering runic sequences. The influx of fresh magic was enough to recharge it, as the sequence brightened to match the others. Tony was amused to notice that the recharged rune had a bit of color from his magic, giving it a bluish tint compared to the standard gold color.</p>
<p><em>Protection from excess heat by elemental conversion, </em>he read. <em>No wonder that sequence needed recharging, elemental flame gives off a lot of heat that would need to be removed from the environment. </em></p>
<p><em>And what is the chemical byproduct that the Ward produces?  </em>Tony squinted as he worked his way through the rest of the sequence. <em>Oh, that’s clever…</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Aside from the whole no longer being imprisoned thing, one of the best parts of Kamar Taj was the fact that Tony was able to explore the practical side of his magical studies. Besides his Mage Sight, and the visions he saw during the Convergence, Tony’s magical education had been purely theoretical. Both Loki and Tony were unwilling to risk the possibility of SHIELD discovering their shared secret, and besides, it was far too dangerous. Letting an apprentice do practical magic without the ability to intervene when things inevitably went awry would be stupid, and the Prince of Asgard was no dummy.</p>
<p>But now Tony had a whole Order of Sorcerers to act as peers, teachers, spotters, and the like.</p>
<p>The topics that he had most enjoyed during his studies with Loki were the linked arts of Runes and Warding, as their structure and detail reminded him of his former areas of study. Runes were kind of like the atoms or the periodic table, and Wards were constructed out of these building blocks much like an invention, code, or chemical reaction.</p>
<p>Despite this fact, however, many of Tony’s early experiments were not based on Runes. Instead, he focused his attention on a less regimented branch of the Mystic Arts, the art of true illusion.</p>
<p>Tony knew that if he wanted to have a front-row seat in the pursuit of his revenge, he would have to master this skill. It wasn’t like his targets wouldn’t recognize him otherwise. Uncle Obie had had a front-row seat as Tony had grown up, after all, and would thus be very difficult to fool without the help of magic.</p>
<p>It took months of practice, but Tony eventually managed to get good enough. While he still struggled with the initial construction stages and couldn’t build a disguise on the fly; once he had a character in place, he was able to maintain it for quite some time, especially if he anchored it using a Ward stone.</p>
<p>But the physical appearance wasn’t enough.</p>
<p>No, any persona that Tony created would have to have the complete package, a full identity. It took a fair amount of capital and a lot of help from JARVIS, but Tony did manage to build up some alternate personas, characters that he could play as needed.</p>
<p>The first, and primary, was the part of Edward Loptsson. A wealthy businessman, born into an upper-class Danish family and educated in Britain, Loptsson, a name chosen in honor of his comatose mentor, would be the face that Tony showed to the world.</p>
<p>The illusion that turned Tony into his alter-ego required a shift of his features in subtle ways, just enough to make Edward distinct from Tony. Those with only a passing acquaintance of both men wouldn’t notice, but to someone like Obie who knew the ‘dead’ Stark CEO, the resemblance would be uncanny.</p>
<p>It was a deliberate choice. Tony hoped that the sense of familiarity would help keep Obie off-balance whenever they finally met.</p>
<p>One major change between the two came in the structure of Edward’s voice.</p>
<p>With a bit of help from Kae and memories of the original Edwin Jarvis as inspiration, Tony added an auditory component to the visual changes. The use of an external illusion meant that he didn’t have to try and remember to use an accent when he spoke. Instead, he could just speak normally, and the construction would automatically adjust his voice so that listeners would hear Loptsson’s accent instead.</p>
<p>The details of the accent were a careful match to Edward’s documented backstory, with elements borrowed from Danish combined with the crisp tones of an upper-class British education.</p>
<p>All in all, Edward Loptsson was meant the perfect bait to reel in men like Obie; wealthy, upper-class, a bit haughty, one of their kind, if you were.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Besides Loptsson there were a half-dozen or so secondary identities that Tony prepared for his own use. These were designated for specific occasions, ones where Edward wouldn’t provide the right access.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first of these secondary personas was a snobby character who bore the title of Lord Ambrose Wilmore.</p>
<p>Wilmore was a boarding school adversary turned business rival of Edward Loptsson. As he was descended from minor British nobility, the character of Wilmore would make a perfect foil to spread disinformation about Tony’s primary persona. No one would suspect such bitter rivals to be in collusion, not with the back story that they had set.</p>
<p>Another key identity, and the only female one, was Catharine ‘Kitty’ Busconi.</p>
<p>A former drug-addict and current mistress of a mid-ranked member of the American Russian Mafia, Kitty had ‘been in rehab’ at the same facility where ‘Tony Stark’ had been held before his death.</p>
<p>This identity was intended for use with those unaware of the betrayal, those who believed the cover story that Stane and the others had established. Since Stane had arranged for ‘Tony Stark’ to be declared dead, supposedly at the hands of HYDRA assassins, an opportunity had been placed. Kitty made for an excellent way to pass off ‘poor Tony’s last wishes’, as well as the chance to do a bit of dividing and conquering. </p>
<p>Based upon the worst of the gold-diggers that had flocked around a younger Tony Stark, Kitty was an overblown caricature of a brainless bimbo. She had overly-dyed brittle blonde hair, the almost neon glow of a fake tan, and the bouncy breasts of a low-quality plastic surgeon wrapped in poorly fitting and overtly sexual clothing, her appearance screamed cheap. To add to that, the illusion also raised the pitch of Tony’s voice and adjusted the speech patterns to make it match the quintessentially valley-girl character.</p>
<p>Of course, whenever he adopted the illusion, Tony couldn’t help but enhance it with an over-the-top manner of speaking that he copied right out of the movies. It was just too much fun not to.</p>
<p>
  <em>Clueless, anyone?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was in character as Kitty that Tony made his next big push in his hunt for information.</p>
<p>This would be the first time that he had gone out in one of his illusions and the first time that he had contact with a human out of his past. Specifically, Tony as Kitty was about to head out to a minimum-security prison in Upstate New York to visit an old adversary.</p>
<p>Tony’s old schoolfellow, Justin Hammer, was currently serving a five-year sentence for his part in the Stark Expo debacle of 2011. Now, Tony doubted that Hammer-time had anything to do with what happened to him, he knew Stane’s opinion of the sniveling weakling far too well for that. However, given Just-in-case’s tendency to snoop, he might have heard something of use. The only question was how to get that information out of him.</p>
<p>Greed was the key. Greed, and perhaps, just a bit of lust.</p>
<p>With that goal in mind, Tony layered on his disguise.</p>
<p>First came the structured illusion; shifting the curves of his body, lowering his center of gravity. As a part of the development of the character, Tony had given Kitty all of the proportions of a playboy centerfold, except for her height. That would require more work to maintain than it was worth. Instead, Kitty matched his own, relatively modest height of 5’9”.</p>
<p>Once the illusion was in place, anchored to a Ward stone, Tony dressed Kitty in a carefully selected outfit.</p>
<p>Like any good magician, Tony had reinforced his illusion with physical components wherever possible. A word to one of Kaecilius’ female acolytes was all it took to track down everything that Tony needed for his disguise.</p>
<p>On his torso, a heavily padded and brightly colored push-up bra filled with silicone inserts was layered underneath a low-cut top, a bit of prosthetic skin covering the parts of the Arc Reactor that sat right where Kitty’s cleavage would show. The top, a confection of lace and floral, drew attention to the illusory breasts that looked like they were about to pop out of confinement. A pair of skinny jeans went on underneath, their shape tailored to enhance Kitty’s ample hips.</p>
<p>Next came the finishing touches.</p>
<p>A heavy layer of makeup was applied to his face. Tony used skills that he had gained during his wild youth, including a multitude of outings with designers and models to create a look that fit Kitty’s character. He had already shaved off any hint of scruff, making it easier to complete.</p>
<p>Then, an ornately styled blonde wig, flashy jewelry (including a bracelet that held the Ward stone anchoring the Kitty illusion), and a pair of glittery stiletto heels, were added. All of these accessories helped to sell the image of a ditzy blonde gold-digger.</p>
<p>Grabbing the gaudy, rhinestone-encrusted handbag that he had chosen to match Kitty’s outfit, Tony loaded it with all of the ‘essentials’ that the persona would need.</p>
<p>Lipstick, perfume, tissues, a compact, pens filled with glittery ink, even a couple of tampons were tossed inside of the bag. The only things in that monstrosity that didn’t match the rest were a couple of college-ruled notebooks.</p>
<p>Over the last few weeks, Tony had filled the notebooks with engineering scribbles, mostly for product innovations that he had never gotten around to passing off to the rest of Stark Industries’ R&amp;D department before his second abduction. None of them were things that he was particularly passionate about, so he didn’t mind handing them off to others. Besides, that kind of data was the perfect bait for someone like the Ham-man.</p>
<p>Shrugging the full purse onto the crook of one arm, Tony squared his shoulders. Then, after taking a glance in the mirror to make sure that his illusion was still intact, he strutted out of his room.</p>
<p>He took a bit of a stumble on the first step, as it had been years since the last time that he wore heels. But once he got the rhythm down, he – <em>she </em>– was ready for prime time.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Kaecilius was waiting on the other side of the door, along with a couple of his minions. When Tony sashayed out in his disguise, all three men’s jaws dropped. Flashing his lover a grin, Tony spun in place, showing off all sides of his illusion.</p>
<p>Then he said in a faux sultry voice, “What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”</p>
<p>After visibly gathering himself together, Kae returned Tony’s smirk. “Not at all, my darling, simply admiring the view.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you,” Tony did his best imitation of a girlish giggle. At the same time, he reached out, and ‘delicately’ slapped Kaecilius’ arm. “Like, you’re totally the best, Cade.”</p>
<p>“I must admit, I am almost sorry not to be joining you on your outing,” Kae said, before glancing over at the two men standing off to one side of the hall.</p>
<p>Unlike Kaecilius, who was dressed in his customary robes and tabards, Tony’s escorts for this expedition were dressed like the Mafia thugs that they would be portraying. They were wearing dark sport coats over polos and khakis, with belts that showed signs of use as gun harnesses. Their only concession to their special duty of guarding their boss’ mistress was the pastel colors of the polos, which had been color-coordinated to match Kitty's outfit.</p>
<p>Each one of Kitty’s escorts also bore on one hand what looked to the uninitiated like a large signet ring.  They were the stripped-down version of the Order’s standard sling ring, a powerful weapon in the right hands. While he didn’t want to admit it, having some company on his field trip was important for Tony's own mental well-being. His sense of calm was singularly low right now, between his mission, the destination, and the fact that this was the first real test of one of his illusions. But he held his composure. He would do this, even if he had to completely break down after it was done.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was ironic, given Tony’s state of mind as they left his quarters, that the reality of journeying from Kamar Taj to the prison proved to be both straightforward and tedious. To avoid the risk of compromising the cover that he had set up, there had to be visible evidence of Kitty’s journey to the prison from the heart of New York City.</p>
<p>So, Kaecilius escorted Tony and his companions to the same hallway that they had once used to travel to Hong Kong. A wave over the control stone later, and a different door swung open. Instead of Hong Kong, this one led to the New York Sanctum, which was physically anchored near the center of Greenwich Village. It was here that Kaecilius left them. He had other matters to attend to while Tony was away.</p>
<p>Instead, Tony and the others stepped across the door’s threshold on their own.</p>
<p>Just like in Kamar Taj and Hong Kong, the portal was located in a small chamber far from the Sanctum’s main exit. Fortunately, one of Kitty’s designated bodyguards was familiar with the Sanctum's layout. As such, he guided the rest of the party down the halls to the atrium and from there out into the world.</p>
<p>As the bodyguards opened the front door, a sweltering wave of heat came rushing inside.</p>
<p>Although it was oppressive, the feel of summer in the City also carried with it a hit of nostalgia.</p>
<p>Tony had spent much of his childhood in the City, staying at the family’s Manhattan mansion with his mother and the Jarvises. It was during that time that his father was away, whether on business, or off to the Arctic on another hunt for Captain America.</p>
<p>Just as it had been so many times in his memories, a black town car with a black-suited driver was waiting on the street for them to emerge. Like in Tony’s childhood, the vehicle was parked right on the house’s front stoop. Unlike her husband, Maria Stark, nee Carbonell, was not interested in fancy automobiles. Instead, she had preferred the simplicity and understated luxury of an elegant town car, just like the one that was idling on the curb.</p>
<p>Pushing back the wave of nostalgia with a sigh, Tony - <em>Kitty </em>- tripped down the building’s front steps, taking a moment at the bottom to glance backward.</p>
<p>From the outside, like in Hong Kong, the New York Sanctum showed nothing of its true identity. Instead, it appeared to be just another brownstone, one that was almost indistinguishable from its neighbors on the tree-lined street.</p>
<p>As she paused to look back, one of the bodyguards stepped past Kitty. Reaching the waiting town car, he held the passenger door open. Despite Kitty’s high heels, Tony had no difficulties in climbing aboard. He settled into the leather-covered back seat with a sigh.</p>
<p>The whole thing almost had him telling the driver, another of Kae’s minions, to swing by the Stark Mansion on their way out of the city.</p>
<p><em>But</em> <em>no, now wasn’t the time.</em></p>
<p>He held off the impulse by sheer will. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. At least the moment of nostalgia had some value. It had helped to ease a bit of his stress, at least for a while anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With practiced movement, the sleek black vehicle smoothly transitioned from the busyness of the New York streets to the less crowded but still well-occupied state and national highways.</p>
<p>It took a few hours to reach the facility that was their destination.</p>
<p>Tony used the time wisely, reinforcing both the character of his current persona and the corresponding illusions. Meanwhile, he worked to build up an entire Rolodex of potential conversational gambits that would be in keeping with Kitty’s character, in preparation for whatever Hammer might throw at him.</p>
<p>Passing through the layers of security necessary to reach the interview rooms almost induced a panic attack by way of flashback.</p>
<p>The similarities with the Sandbox detention center were disconcerting, to say the least, but he managed to hold it together. Having companions at his side at all times helped, especially when Tony’s eye caught the glint off their sling rings. The sight reminded him that there was no way that even the strictest Mundane prison could hold them, not without serious advanced planning and foreknowledge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After making it through security, passing through a half-dozen barred doors along the way, Kitty and her escort finally reached the designated interview room.</p>
<p>When they approached the meeting site, one of the escorts split off. He was bound for the prison’s monitoring station, where he could make sure that Kitty’s meeting remained private, her words unheard by the hovering prison guards. The other escort, in contrast, followed Kitty inside the interview room where Hammie had already been delivered and was waiting. This escort glanced around with the keen eyes of an on-duty bodyguard, playing his role to perfection before he took up a standing position at the room’s door and allowed his principal to enter.</p>
<p>As Kitty strutted into the space, from behind his disguise Tony assessed the man that he was here to meet. </p>
<p>Without his flashy suits and sunglasses, Justin Hammer was a very different sight from the obnoxious brat that Tony remembered from <em>Before</em>. Dressed in prison drab, the former business mogul had come down in the world.</p>
<p>Tony felt a moment of snide glee at the sight before it turned into a pang of guilt.</p>
<p>Juju had been more of an irritating pest than anything, a former boarding school rival who lacked the intelligence to properly compete with hyper-intelligent Stark heir. The fact that he was an idiot didn’t mean that he deserved the level of comeuppance that he’d received. Others were far more deserving of punishment.</p>
<p>But Tony couldn’t let his sympathies distract him from his mission. Hammer was a useful tool in advancing his revenge, that was all.</p>
<p>Having glanced up when Kitty walked into the room, Justin’s face very clearly showed his confusion. As expected, the man had absolutely no idea who she was. Of course, that didn’t stop the brat attempting to gain her attention. Reaching up, Hammie did his best to smooth his hair before flashing his most charming grin.</p>
<p><em>That smile makes him look constipated, </em>Tony thought with a hidden smirk, even as he settled into an empty chair directly across the table from the former mogul.</p>
<p>He leaned forward, blatantly showing off Kitty’s cleavage for a moment as he adjusted the chair’s position relative to the table. Then he dropped her purse onto the table’s surface with a thud.</p>
<p>Exactly as he had intended, the contents of the bag spilled across the surface; wallet, keys, lipstick, powder, tampons, pens with fluffy feathered tips, and of course, the all-important notebooks.</p>
<p>“Oh, look at me, I’m such a clutz,” Kitty said with a giggle, even as she leaned forward once more to re-fill the bag, flashing her cleavage again as she did so.</p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, Justin immediately moved to help, picking up one of the notebooks, which had slid across to his side of the surface.</p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye, Tony watched as the man absently flipped it open.</p>
<p>He could see the second that Hammer recognized the handwriting that filled the notebook.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long.</p>
<p>Justin had seen plenty of writing samples while trying to cheat off Tony’s work in boarding school, not to mention whatever his spies had managed to steal from SI more recently. His eyes went wide in shock for a second, before he snapped the notebook shut and handed it back to Kitty with reluctance clearly written across his face.</p>
<p>To all outside appearances, Kitty hadn’t noticed Justin’s slip. Instead, she was too busy muttering about her poor babies, even as she flipped through a small folio, one filled with photos of a pair of Chihuahuas wearing bright pink collars. She absently accepted the notebook back, shoving it into the bag with a casualness that made Hammer visibly wince.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long before Kitty had finished reloading the bag with everything that had been scattered across the table. Then, once everything was arranged to her satisfaction, she sat back with a bright smile.</p>
<p>“Hi there,” she said brightly, flashing a full-mouthed smile. “You must be Jay-Jay, Ton-Ton told me all about you.”</p>
<p>The look of complete and utter bafflement that flashed across Justin’s face was almost enough to make Tony burst out laughing. He held it in by sheer will.</p>
<p>“Ton-Ton?” Hammer finally asked.</p>
<p>“Oh, silly me, I forgot, I gave him that name. I meant dear Tony, of course.”</p>
<p>She waited a moment, and then went on. “You know, Tony Stark, your friend?”</p>
<p>The words made Hammer look even blanker. If he were a computer, Tony knew that DOES NOT COMPUTE would be flashing across the monitor screen.</p>
<p>Finally, he took pity on the man. In character as Kitty, he continued babbling, commenting that, “like, Ton-Ton said you’d be surprised to hear from him, I know, but honey, you should always trust your friends.”</p>
<p>“How – you know Tony Stark?” Hammer finally managed to break through his confusion enough to ask.</p>
<p>“Oops, I forgot again,” she said with another giggle. “I’d forget my own head if it wasn’t attached, right Boris,” she added, glancing back at her guard. The disguised sorcerer did an excellent impersonation of a put-upon lackey.</p>
<p>“Yes, Miss Busconi.”</p>
<p>She pouted, “Boris, you know I’ve told you to call me Kitty.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Miss Kitty.”</p>
<p>“There you go. Now,” bouncing in her seat, she returned her attention to the now thoroughly confused Hammer.</p>
<p>“You see, dear Ton-Ton and I were rehab buddies, you know. I had a teeny problem after my surgery, getting the girls.” Reaching up, Kitty patted one of her silicone-enhanced breasts happily. “The doctor, he, like, gave me something to help with, you know, the pain, and… well… I’m afraid I got a smidge,” Kitty held up one hand, its fingers bedecked with long acrylic nails painted a bright pink to match her purse, and put the thumb and forefinger about a quarter of an inch apart. “-hooked on the way that it, like, made me feel.”</p>
<p>“Of course, when my darling Cade noticed, well, he simply had to make sure that I got the help that I, like, needed.”</p>
<p>Tony could practically see the thoughts racing through MC Hammer’s mind as did his best to follow the convoluted twists of Kitty’s ramble.</p>
<p><em>So far, so good, </em>he thought, <em>let’s just lead the prey to water…</em></p>
<p>“Well, anyways, like, I totally didn’t think that I needed any help at first, but after a bit of talking with, you know, like, doctors and stuff, I figured out that they were right.”</p>
<p>“And how does this connect to Tony Stark,” Hammer asked, obviously still somewhat lost.</p>
<p>“Oh, well, you see, Tony – or Ton-ton, I call him – was another patient, you know, like, he was also getting help.”</p>
<p>The figurative anvil had dropped, as Justin leaned forward, “You stayed at the same facility as Tony Stark? When was this, recently?”</p>
<p>
  <em>And… Gotcha!</em>
</p>
<p>“Of course, silly. It was just like,” here Kitty ostentatiously began counting her fingers… “five, six, eight… I don’t know, some number of months ago!”</p>
<p>“I believe that you were in residence at the Center in September of last year, Miss,” Tony’s straight man said, with a serious voice, “The master wished to ensure your health before the holidays.”</p>
<p>“Right you are, Boris!” Kitty said, apparently too oblivious to take offense at the interruption.</p>
<p>“And how was dear Tony when you were with him,” Justin asked, clearly having decided how he wanted to handle the bimbo.  “It’s been such a long time since his terrible break-down. I have been so worried.”</p>
<p>“Oh… Then,” Kitty burst into tears rather abruptly, “… then you haven’t heard?!” She began sobbing hysterically. “It was so awful, my poor Ton-Ton...”</p>
<p>As she continued to cry, her escort stepped away from his position at the door. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a cloth handkerchief, which he handed to the hysterical woman.</p>
<p>“There, there,” he said awkwardly, patting her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Boris,” she responded, before beginning to calm down. As she regained control of herself, the man turned to Hammer. “I am afraid that Miss Busconi was a witness to the tragedy that was Mister Stark’s recent demise. It had a rather significant impact on her mind.”</p>
<p>“Dead?! I mean, what do you mean, DEAD?”</p>
<p>“Oh, you didn’t know?” Kitty asked, having gathered herself together enough to resume speaking. “I am so, so sorry to be the one to have to tell you. It was those nasty HYDRA people, you see.”</p>
<p>“I… HYDRA?”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh, they murdered him!”</p>
<p>“That’s terrible,” Justin said, obviously faking a strong emotional response to the news, “but, why are you telling me this, shouldn’t you be talking to the police?”</p>
<p>“Oh, they already know about Ton-Ton,” Kitty said with a dismissive wave. “That’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I, like, made a promise. You know, to Ton-Ton, before he –“ she broke off before she could complete the sentence.</p>
<p>“I promised that I’d make sure that his best friends would get these.” Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the notebooks that Hammer had caught a glimpse of earlier. “He said that, like, his legacy should go to his best friends. That’s you! Oh, and a few more people.”</p>
<p>Tony notices Hammer’s hopeful look morph into something more thoughtful even as Kitty counts off names out loud. “There’s Pep, and Happy, oh, and the one with the funny road name – Rhodey! – then there’s his mentor guy, like, Obi-Wan, you know. He was so pretty in those star thingie movies.”</p>
<p>She giggled and then added. “Oh, he said something about his company, I think, what was it called?”</p>
<p>“Stark Industries?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that one. He wanted to make sure that they get… something?”</p>
<p>Behind his Kitty mask, Tony was snickering. This character was far too fun to play.</p>
<p>He could see frustration and greed fully subsume the lust that had been Hammer-time’s initial reaction to Kitty. As it did so, the man allowed a sorrowful look to emerge.</p>
<p>“Well,” he said, “I’m afraid that I must give you some disappointing news. Of the people that you mentioned, two pre-deceased him. There was a terrible accident shortly after Tony’s breakdown, one which took the lives of his assistant and his driver; or as Tony used to call them, Pepper and Happy. As for the other two; I know for a fact that Tony’s former mentor, Obadiah Stane, was not his friend. He actively schemed to take over Stark Industries. As a matter of fact, I firmly believe that he was involved in poor Tony’s death.”</p>
<p>“Oh!” Kitty exclaimed, bursting into tears. “That’s horrible. Ton-Ton always did claim that someone was watching him, someone besides the Doctors. He said that some bad people had done things to him, things which made him be at the clinic. You know, I – I thought it was those snake people, but his Obie? That’s so, so, awful.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it is,” Justin agreed, before continuing. “And as for James Rhodes – the Rhodey that you mentioned? – well, he was pulled away from Tony’s side. I assume that you have heard of the Iron Soldier?”</p>
<p>Kitty nodded, before sniffling ostentatiously.</p>
<p>“Colonel Rhodes is the Iron Soldier. Since the suit that he wears was created by Stane and his company, what used to be Stark Industries, his loyalties have shifted.  So, if he were to receive anything he would immediately pass it along. Besides,” Hammer said, his tone turned confidential, “I know for a fact that the US Military was also involved in things. I heard the Colonel’s superior, a General named Ross, scheming with Stane with my own two ears.”</p>
<p>“Like, really? That’s so terrible!”</p>
<p>
  <em>Ross? That is a new name.</em>
</p>
<p>“It is, isn’t it,” Justin said almost absently. “I couldn’t help but feel sorry for poor Tony, hearing them. I would have said something, but I was too afraid. After all, they already got me locked up in here. If I tried to go after them with what I know, it would be so much worse.”</p>
<p>“Then, I guess that you’re the last one left.”</p>
<p>“I… suppose that I am.”</p>
<p>“In that case, like, it’s a good thing I came here first!” Kitty said brightly, smiling through the remnants of her earlier tears. “Boris, darling, that means that we can go back to Cadey baby’s early!”</p>
<p>“If you say so, Miss Kitty.”</p>
<p>“I do,” she said definitively. “I don’t want to, like, do anything nice for people who hurt my Ton-ton. Okay, then.”</p>
<p>Digging through her purse once more, Kitty pulled out the notebooks that Tony had deliberately revealed to Ju-Ju-Bees earlier. The greedy former mogul was practically drooling, staring at them like they held the secrets of the Universe.</p>
<p><em>If he only knew, </em>Tony thought, disgusted at the idea of giving Hammer anything.</p>
<p>Still, these were small potatoes, simple upgrades to some of his older ideas. They were hardly groundbreaking, just enough to get Hammer back on his feet should he choose to control his greed. But Tony knew better. He knew that the man would waste the opportunity that he’d been given, likely by overreaching.</p>
<p>Still, he’d got what he wanted out of the meeting. He had confirmation that Stane was involved in the original scheme and a new name for his investigations. Mentally shrugging, he, as Kitty, said farewell to the overcome Hammer. The man hardly glanced up from his obsessive examination of the notebooks long enough to see them leave.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ross. Where have I heard that name before? </em>
</p>
<p>Tony thought as he walked out of the prison and climbed into the waiting vehicle to return to New York and from there, Kamar Taj.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Changed Focus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Kaecilius, Master in the Order of the Mystic Arts</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Changed Focus</h1><p>
  
</p><hr/><p>While Anthony and his escort were off in New York for their interview, back in Kamar Taj, Kaecilius had business to do.</p><p>The first of his meetings was not one that had been on his schedule. Instead, it came up unexpectedly, just as Kaecilius was returning from dropping his lover off at the portal. He was walking down the hall, on his way back to the central courtyard of the compound, when he was intercepted.</p><p><em>What does he want,</em> Kaecilius thought, a touch annoyed. Mordo was the last person that he wanted to talk to right then.</p><p>Karl Mordo was a former apprentice of the Ancient One, another man who, like Kaecilius, had earned the title of Master in the Order of the Mystic Arts. But despite their status as quasi-contemporaries and fellow students of the same teacher, Kaecilius and Mordo had never been particularly close.</p><p>It didn’t help that they had such different responses to the tragedies in their lives.</p><p>Mordo, who had been a child soldier in East Africa before he escaped to freedom in the West, had emerged from that experience with a rigid definition of right and wrong.</p><p>Actions that followed what he defined as the natural order were <em>Right.</em></p><p>Actions that violated his version of the natural order in any way were <em>Wrong</em>.</p><p>It didn’t matter if the violation was big or small; all violations were treated the same way. With disgust and a determination that the one who had committed the act was perverse and deserving of punishment.</p><p>Kaecilius, on the other hand, was an explorer.</p><p>He didn’t care about what Mordo defined as the natural order. Instead, he had a passionate desire to <em>Know</em> everything. It was his way of coping with his past, the loss of family to illnesses which lacked a viable cure, as well as growing up with the great tragedy of the Second World War and its immediate aftermath in Northern Europe. </p><p>This difference in perspective often led to conflict between the pair.</p><p>As Kaecilius ventured further into branches of the Mystic Arts which ran counter to Mordo’s definition of the natural order, his pursuit of that knowledge had Mordo labeling him and all of his students as villains.</p><p>It was only their mutual respect for their teacher that kept the peace… For now.</p><p>So, when Mordo flagged him down, Kaecilius immediately went on alert. It didn’t help that Mordo was carrying his preferred weapon, a rune carved staff, and appeared ready for a fight.</p><p><em>Is it finally time? </em>Kaecilius wondered. <em>Has he finally decided that I have gone far enough? Is he about to attack? </em></p><p>
  <em>Wait. That doesn’t make sense. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have been more focused on supporting young Anthony instead of pursuing new branches of the Arts, wouldn’t that ease his mind? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Or perhaps that is the problem?</em>
</p><p>As Kaecilius' thoughts whirled, trying to piece together the puzzle, Mordo reached his side. Thankfully, it seemed that the younger Master was not spoiling for a fight. Instead, he had simply come to deliver a message.</p><p>“The Ancient One is looking for you,” Mordo said with a frown, clearly irritated at being reduced to a messenger. Before Kaecilus could say a single word, the militant man spun on his heel, striding off in the opposite direction.</p><p><em>Alright, then. </em>Kaecilius thought, a touch wryly. <em>What’s invaded his robes?</em></p><p>It was a bit ironic, but Mordo’s brusqueness was rather comforting.</p><p>If Mordo had acted friendly, or worse, sympathetic, the older man would have been concerned.</p><p>Instead, it seemed that the Ancient One’s reasons for meeting with him did not meet with Mordo’s approval; that was if he knew them. That could be either very good or, possibly, but less likely, very bad.</p><p>Seeing no reason to delay, Kaecilius made a decision. He would head straight to the source.</p><p> </p><p>Reversing his previous path, the experienced sorcerer headed further into the compound’s main building. As he walked, he offered greetings to the various Apprentices, Journeymen, and Masters of the Order that he passed along the way.</p><p>The early evening hour had turned Kamar Taj into a hive of activity. Most of the members of the Order on-site in the fortress used the time following dinner for personal pursuits. So instead of being closeted away in their chambers or working areas, they were out visiting, enjoying the peace, or preparing to head out into the city.</p><p>It was a reminder to Kaecilius that there was so much more to the Order than just his small circle.</p><p>He’d grown so focused on the affairs of his people, including the fascinating puzzle that was Anthony Stark, that he’d nearly forgotten all that the Order contained.</p><p>Those who made up the Order were all HIS people, fellow guardians in the fight to protect the Earth from Mystical threats from within and without.</p><p>As he reached a small courtyard off down a wing of the main building, one of several such open spaces in Kamar Taj, Kaecilius paused in his walk. Taking a deep breath, he took a moment to ground himself in the heartbeat of the Earth. Kaecilius needed to be at the top of his game to match wits with a being like the Ancient One.</p><p>He knew that there was no way that this meeting with the Sorcerer Supreme would be simple. That was not how they operated.</p><p>Then, once he was satisfied with his current physical and mental state, he continued onward.</p><p>The space designated as the personal office of the Sorcerer Supreme opened directly onto the courtyard where he stood. So, once he had finished his moment of meditation, Kaecilius walked up the handful of wooden stairs and along the perimeter walkway until he reached the sliding door that led into the office.</p><p>It slid open easily, revealing a sparsely decorated space.</p><p>The room was dominated by the massive, hovering globe that sat at its center. For the globe, created by the Ancient One’s magic, took up over half of the room's square footage. On its surface, it displayed a current picture of the Earth’s surface, as well as the Mystical shield that surrounded it and protected it from external threats.</p><p>When Kaecilius entered the room, the Ancient One was standing to the left of the globe, examining a section of the shield.</p><p>As he began to move towards them, Kaecilius realized that their eyes were on North America, New York State, and in particular the New York Sanctum. It was this Sanctum, along with the others scattered across the globe, which anchored the Mystical shield surrounding the planet. Unsurprisingly, although they appeared focused on the view before them, it appeared that the Ancient One had immediately noticed his entry. Almost absently, they waved him over to their side.</p><p>“Mordo said that you were looking for me?” he asked as he stepped forward.</p><p>Unlike Mordo, who persisted in calling the Ancient One a woman, he had no trouble in acknowledging their truly non-binary nature. While they had never said anything, he knew that they appreciated the thought inherent in his gesture.</p><p>“I was, yes,” they agreed with a serene smile. “You have been in residence here in Kamar Taj for some time, have you not?”</p><p>Without hesitation, Kaecilius nodded.</p><p><em>That was a bit of a non-sequitur,</em> he thought, <em>they are the one who controls the Wards on the compound and must approve any who desire to reside there. So they already know the answer to their question.</em></p><p>“And in that time, you seem to have found in this place a home.”</p><p>Another nod, again acknowledging a statement that he felt was self-evident.</p><p>“But of late, things have changed.”</p><p><em>And here came the real point. </em>This time, the Ancient One’s comment made Kaecilius wince.</p><p>He had grown distant from his long-time mentor in recent years, a fact that was driven by their refusal to grant him access to certain esoteric tomes found in their personal library.  Still, he acknowledged the truth of their statement with a third nod.</p><p>“Indeed, changed multiple times,” they continued as if they hadn’t noticed his wince. “Your Master’s trial, you have faced, and it seems that, despite my fears, you have managed to succeed in fighting through great temptation.”</p><p>They smiled then, a tad enigmatically, and added, “if I were to offer you access to my library now, would you be inclined to experiment using the rituals found on those pages?”</p><p>Kaecilius shook his head.</p><p>“There is far too much knowledge out there beyond these walls, and besides I have another purpose beyond my search for the means to defeat Death.”</p><p>“Then you have indeed grown wise, my son,” they said, their serene smile widening. “I believe that it is time.”</p><p>“Time?”</p><p>“Time for you to take up Guardianship of one of our great Sanctums.”</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>Kaecilius was surprised. Unlike some of his peers, he had never seen himself in the role of a Guardian. Kamar Taj had always held all of his attention, that and his research. Besides, the Ancient One had never before given any indication that they would entrust him with such a significant role.</p><p>“Quite. The New York Sanctum, I think.”</p><p>“But... I thought... Daniel?” Kaecilius asked, startled.</p><p>“Young Master Daniel is indeed well suited to be a Guardian and will be heading to London to gain further training under the current Guardian Master. However, you cannot deny having a base in New York City would not be beneficial to your secondary mission.”</p><p>
  <em>Of course. Anthony and I have discussed his plans for revenge, plans which include a residence in that City. But I didn’t realize that the Ancient One was aware of our plans. </em>
</p><p>“That is fair,” he agreed, keeping his thoughts to himself. “But I would like to speak with Anthony before I accept the offer, as well as my people here.”</p><p>“I understand. Regardless of your decision, I would like to start the transition right away.  There are several of the younger Masters in residence here in Kamar Taj who we both know are more than capable of taking on some of your chosen responsibilities. Many are even ready to take on Apprentices of their own.”</p><p>They glanced over at him with a mischievous look, “And I am certain that should you accept, many of your – what does young Tony call them, minions?  - will be accompanying you to your new posting. Wong will be pleased. He has been hoping to experience fewer accidents around his precious books.”</p><p>At that, Kaecilius let out a brief chuckle, acknowledging the hit. While Anthony had been a trigger for that sort of behavior, he was hardly the only one.</p><p>Dangerous Mystical experiments had been a common theme amongst his people from the beginning, a natural consequence of their pursuit of knowledge.</p><p>“He’ll be jumping for joy,” he said wryly. And they laughed together.</p><p>It was a comfortable moment, a reminder of their decades as teacher and student and then colleagues.</p><p> </p><p>With the matter of his future as a potential Guardian on hold, Kaecilius turned the conversation to other matters. He had intended to have this discussion with Wong first, but since he already had the Ancient One’s attention perhaps it would be best to start there.</p><p>“Perhaps you can help me with another matter, my teacher,” he said as he walked over to the tea service set on the desk. It was still hot, so he poured himself a cup.</p><p>“Of course,” they agreed. “What troubles you?”</p><p>“Not troubles, exactly,” he said as he sipped. “More… curious…”</p><p>“Oh?” The Ancient One claimed their cup and took a sip of the warm liquid.</p><p>“Can you tell me what history the Order has with the being known as Bast?”</p><p>The Ancient One raised a nearly non-existent brow. “The Panther Goddess of Wakanda?”</p><p>“The same. Anthony’s creation has had certain encounters with her people, and so I wondered, how does she compare to the Others?”</p><p>“To Dormammu, you mean,” that comment was dry.</p><p>“Yes. I know that deals with Eldritch beings are discouraged, but it seems that the Wakandans have greatly benefitted from just such a bargain, especially their ruling family.”</p><p>“The Heart-Shaped Herb.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>The Ancient One’s expression turned absent as if they were recalling events from days long past.</p><p>“A question that I once asked my Master,” they said, lost in reminiscence. “I too wondered about the difference. What he told me was that the contract that was made between the Kings of Wakanda and their Panther Goddess was the work of a high-level member of the Order. A Wakandan, the woman would go on to become the first priestess of Bast. The power that was gifted to the Wakandans had very sharply defined limits and came with a distinct caveat. Those who bore the gift were charged with the protection of the shard of the Goddess that had landed upon the Earth. Any person who fails to honor that charge will lose the Goddess’ blessing, and may suffer an even worse fate.”</p><p>They hesitated for a moment, and then added, “in essence, the people of Wakanda, and especially their leaders, hold a position similar to one of our Guardians. That is the role that they have chosen by accepting the contract with Bast.”</p><p>“Fascinating.”</p><p>“I quite agree,” they said, setting down their tea. “Now, if you do not mind, Kaecilius, I must return to my present work.”</p><p>“Of course,” Kaecilius agreed with a bow. Then he excused himself from the room.</p><p>Moving with long strides, he headed straight for his quarters.</p><p>A bit of meditation was needed to clear his mind. Then, he would resume his plans for the day, a review of the ongoing research projects which occupied his people’s time.</p><p> </p><p>When Anthony and the others returned from their trip to visit his old rival, Kaecilius was pleased to see that the younger Sorcerer was upbeat despite his clear exhaustion. Maintaining an illusion for that long was not easy, especially while dealing with strong emotions.</p><p>“Come,” Kaecilius said, greeting his love with a soft kiss, “let us get you cleaned up. I am certain that you are tired of being Kitty, after all.”</p><p>“You read my mind, babe,” Anthony said with a tired laugh. While he had already dropped the illusion, the non-magical layers that he wore had left him looking like a bedraggled drag queen. The only thing that he’d discarded on the way back to Kamar Taj were his heels, which he carried by their straps - furthering the similarity to a drag queen at the end of a set.</p><p>“Help me out, here, would you, Magic Man?” he asked, dumping his bag and heels into the arms of his paramour before he headed off towards his chambers. After a brief check-in with his students, the ones who had portrayed Kitty’s bodyguards, Kaecilius followed.</p><p> </p><p>By the time that he caught up with Anthony, the man had already reached his suite and had disappeared into the bathing chamber. From the looks of the main chamber, it seemed that Anthony had been quite efficient in the removal of the layers of his disguise. There was a trail of discarded belongings that led from the room’s entrance to the door to the on-suite, all of them simply dropped onto the floor.</p><p>Kaecilius busied himself by picking up the various garments, setting those which would require laundering into the basket beside the wardrobe that was designated for such things. The rest were put away in their assigned storage locations, except for the pendant which anchored the Kitty illusion. That, Kaecilius placed on the desk, ready to be returned to the workroom for recharging.</p><p>As he cleaned, Kaecilius called out to his lover, raising the pitch of his voice so that it could be heard through the sounds of the shower.</p><p>“So, how did it go,” he called.</p><p>“Just as we planned,” was Anthony’s easy response. “Hammer-time was far too focused on Kitty’s antics to realize that he was being interrogated.”</p><p>“And did you get anything useful out of him?”</p><p>“Well, he did confirm Stane’s involvement in my incarceration, which we did already know from the files. But he also gave us another important piece of information.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“A name. Some American General by the name of Ross.”</p><p>“And is this Ross a figure from your past?”</p><p>“Not that I can recall, but with my family’s connections to the military, you never know. I’ll put J on it.”</p><p>“No need to ask, Sir,” the now-familiar voice of his lover’s artificial offspring spoke, interrupting their conversation.</p><p>“Oh, you’re there too, huh, Baby Boy?”</p><p>“Indeed. I am afraid that I will be unable to devote my full processing capacity to the problem until later today; the Princess and I are running a critical simulation at present, one which is consuming most of my computational resources. Once that project is complete I will re-task my servers towards your research.”</p><p>“Thanks, J. You’re the best!”</p><p>“As self-congratulatory as that comment may be, I do appreciate the sentiment, Sir.”</p><p>“All the Sass, J. Who you got that from, I will never know.”</p><p>The shower shut off and within moments Anthony emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped about his waist. He was rubbing a second towel through his hair in an attempt to absorb all of the moisture that had gathered on their strands.</p><p>“Remind me again, Kae, why I decided to keep this long,” he said. “It’s so much more work than my old do.”</p><p>Kaecilius didn’t bother to respond. They both knew the answer to Anthony’s comment disguised as a query.</p><p>The shoulder-length curls were both a nod to his absent mentor and an extra layer to his Loptsson disguise. Billionaire Heir and Tech Genius Tony Stark had never been one to let his hair grow long, even in his youth. Anthony just liked to whine about the extra hassle, drama queen that he was.</p><p>When the younger man reached Kaecilius’ side, he raised the hand unoccupied with his hair and pulled his lover’s face down to meet his own. With the habitual comfort that came from their months together, they exchanged a casual kiss, one that quickly morphed into something a bit more… passionate.</p><p>From there, the contact proceeded into its inevitable conclusion.</p><p> </p><p>It was later, when their interlude was complete, that Kaecilius returned their minds to more serious matters. In a few words, he spoke of the offer that the Ancient One had made.</p><p>“As much as I would love to have you around when I head stateside more permanently, my Silver Fox, I don’t want you to leave your home just for me. I am perfectly capable of managing things on my own.”</p><p>“And I do not doubt that fact,” Kaecilius rebutted. “The Ancient One’s offer is tempting for its own sake. Honestly, I have been feeling a bit constrained here in Kamar Taj of late, and taking on this role would allow me that freedom. It’s not as if the journey between the two sites is particularly rigorous, after all.”</p><p>Anthony snorted. “That’s a fair point,” he agreed, obviously remembering his trips through the portal. “Magic certainly makes such travel easier. And speaking of travel, while J is busy doing research I have another field trip that I need to do. This one, I think that you’ll want to go with me, as my own personal Indiana Jones.”</p><p>“But of course, dear one,” Kaecilius agreed, curious. <em>Where could Anthony want to go?</em></p><p> </p><p> Since Anthony was still recovering from the workout playing Kitty had been, the decision was made to wait a couple of days before they headed out. It also gave Kaecilius the chance to discuss the Ancient One’s offer with others beyond his lover.</p><p>Wong was the first on the list.</p><p>“New York,” he said when Kaecilius finished speaking. “Not where I once saw you, but not surprising either, given recent events.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Kaecilius,” the older man said kindly, “you were always destined to be one of the Guardians. That was, of course, with the assumption that you passed your Mastery trial beforehand. It is a requirement for one to guard one of the Sanctums.”</p><p>Kaecilius grunted, confused. <em>Really?</em></p><p>Wong gave a soft laugh, correctly interpreting Kaecilius’ look. “Sanctum Guardians generally choose not to be recognized as such, but the trial is a requirement for the position. Once, many centuries ago, before they took their place as the Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One was just such a Guardian. Their charge was the Sanctum in London. This was before the Order established the New York Sanctum when that city gained in prominence with the founding of its current country.”</p><p><em>The Ancient One was a Guardian when they first established the New York Sanctum? And they want me to be its new Guardian?</em>Kaecilius was both astounded and honored by the implications of Wong's revelation.</p><p>“Yes, such Sanctums come and go, along with their respective civilizations. New York, London, Hong Kong; these are the current centers. But there were numerous other sites in the past and will be others in the future. Alexandria in Egypt once held a Sanctum, as did Istanbul, Machu Picchu, Samarkand, Kyoto, and innumerable others. There are always at least three Sanctums, the minimum required to maintain the shield, but there can be many more.”</p><p>“And each one requires a Guardian?”</p><p>“Indeed. You are not the only one whom the Ancient One has asked to take up the duty in the coming days. It seems that the Hong Kong Sanctum is also in need of a new Guardian.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>Wong smiled. “I, myself will be returning to that position I have served as such once before, during the time of the Ancient One’s predecessor as Sorcerer Supreme. Meanwhile, one of my assistants here will be stepping in as the overseer of the Kamar Taj archives. I will remain the Order’s Archivist, but will be handing over my day-to-day responsibilities here.”</p><p>Kaecilius was astonished. He knew of Wong’s previous posting as a Sanctum Guardian but had assumed that the older sorcerer would not willingly leave his present position.  Wong had been based out of Kamar Taj for centuries, since before Kaecilius’ birth.</p><p>“A time of change, indeed,” he said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>The day after Kaecilius’ chat with his older comrade, Anthony reached the point where he had recovered enough for their field trip. So, once again, he led Kaeclius and several of his disciples through the halls of Kamar Taj to the portal room. This time, they journeyed through the portal into the London Sanctum.</p><p>Unlike on Anthony’s previous trips to one of the Sanctums, they did not head directly out into the city once they arrived. Instead, the young Sorcerer pulled a pendant, shaped like a lodestone or compass, from one of his pockets. Next, he allowed it to hover over his palm for a moment, spinning, until it settled in a direction, pointing roughly north-east.</p><p>“This will be our guide,” he said with confidence. “But we will have to travel some distance before we reach our final destination. I have reason to believe that the site I seek is hidden somewhere in the wilds of Scandinavia.”</p><p> </p><p>From there, instead of walking or a form of mundane transportation, they took advantage of certain Mystical shortcuts. Anthony, Kaecilius, and their companions began a sequence of leapfrogging portals. Each sorcerer in the group would take turns opening a portal that led in the direction indicated by the lodestone, after which all of them would pass through. Then, after a pause to recalibrate, another sorcerer would step forward to repeat the process, bringing them ever closer to their target.</p><p>They jumped from London to the eastern edge of Britain, and then across the North Sea to the Netherlands and Germany, before turning North. From there, they followed the coast from Denmark and then across the sea again into Sweden, bypassing Copenhagen and Stockholm on their way North. By the time that they crossed the Arctic Circle and reached Swedish Lappland everyone was exhausted.</p><p>“Perhaps we should stop for a break,” Anthony suggested, leaning against Kaecilius’ side. “I didn’t realize how exhausting opening so many portals would be.”</p><p>Kaecilius agreed. While, as the most experienced member of the team, he was still in pretty good shape, not everyone in the party would be able to continue without rest.</p><p>“It is growing late, perhaps we should look for a place to stay the night,” he suggested.</p><p>“Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea, you brilliant man,” Anthony agreed easily, “I would kill for a hot meal right about now.”</p><p> </p><p>Fortunately, there was a small town not too far from their current location.</p><p>Having learned Swedish in his childhood, enough to get by, Kaecilius was able to communicate with the locals. It took a bit of convincing to get the villagers to buy their story, that of a group of backpackers who had wanted a break from the wilderness, but Kaecilius persisted in the attempt. They were lucky in that it was the end of the season, with winter rapidly approaching that far to the North, so there were plenty of rooms available in the local inn.</p><p>Kaecilius knew that the owner of the inn at least had her doubts about their story; they were not exactly dressed for an extended wilderness trip and had arrived without baggage. However, once she saw their money, she was willing to let it go.</p><p>After a good meal courtesy of the restaurant attached to the inn, they all retired to sleep. In this case, exhaustion and the confusion of ‘jet lag’ from changing so many time zones made it easy for Anthony to drop into slumber right away.</p><p>Unlike his paramour, though, Kaecilius remained awake for some time.</p><p><em>So much change in such a short time, </em>he mused as he looked over at Anthony. The man shifted in his sleep, mumbling a little, and Kaecilius couldn’t help but smile. <em>But I find that I cannot regret any of it. </em></p><p>The next morning, they headed off bright and early, hiking briskly into the forest until they were far enough from the village for the flash of a portal to go unnoticed by their hosts.</p><p>“Direct us, love,” Kaecilius said, as he volunteered to make the first gate of the day.</p><p>“You got it, my dashing dynamo,” Anthony said, “one portal pointer coming right up.”</p><p> </p><p>It only took a handful of portals before Anthony’s lodestone indicated that they had arrived at their destination.</p><p>“Are you certain that you prepared the stone correctly, Stark,” one of the others asked, looking around, “there’s nothing here.”</p><p>To the naked eye, there was nothing that made this particular rocky outcropping different from any of the others that they could see. Even when he engaged his Mage Sight, the location appeared unremarkable.</p><p>But Anthony only laughed. “And what is my Master famous for?” he asked easily.</p><p>It was a rhetorical question, of course. Loki, also known as Silvertongue, was a master of illusion.</p><p>“When he wanted something hidden, my good Ravenclaw, it remained so,” Anthony explained easily.</p><p>Kaecilius’ breath caught in his throat.</p><p>
  <em>A site hidden by the Master Seidrmadr of Asgard and Jotunheim, what treasures were buried within? Oh, Anthony, my love, you do surprise me.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hidden in the heart of this rocky wilderness was the cavern where Loki had established his Midgardian lair. Centuries before, the Asgardian Seidrmadr had, like the dragons of legend, excavated a large hollow deep within the mountains. Inaccessible by Mundane means, the cavern could only be reached via a portal. Even then, one had to have the Ward key to be able to portal inside.</p><p>Without a map to the location and the key, the treasure hidden inside would have remained nothing more than a legend. But with those two items at his disposal, along with the telltale signs of his Apprenticeship to the older Sorcerer, Anthony alone was able to venture inside the locked vault in safety.</p><p>“I’m afraid that the rest of you will have to wait here,” Anthony said, his voice impish. “Even you, intrepid explorer that you are. I may have the key to access things, but even as Loki’s Apprentice I cannot grant access to others.”</p><p>As Kaecilius and his followers waited outside for their guide to return, he felt a chill run down his spine. The feeling wasn’t from cold temperatures, the weather was pretty mild for the time of year, but rather the strength of the Master Sorcerer’s Warding scheme. Beyond the physical lock, it also emanated a sense of dread, one designed to encourage potential looters to run away.</p><p>He glanced around, seeing the others in a similar state. In that mode, the evergreen trees and rocks took on a sinister aspect. It made the time that they waited feel exponentially longer. Had he been asked during that time, Kaecilius would have said that they had been there for hours, standing and shivering in the cold.</p><p>In actuality, Anthony re-emerged from Loki’s hidden vault less than a half-hour after he had entered. And he did not come out empty-handed.</p><p>The dread feeling from the Ward was forgotten as Kaecilius and the rest rushed forward to help Anthony shift the floating barge, piled high with treasure, that followed him out of the golden portal.</p><p>As he examined the haul, Kaecilius could see that the treasure was far more than just gold and jewels, though there were plenty of those. Instead, what grabbed Kaecilius’ attention was a collection of tomes, most obviously hand-written and likely one-of-a-kind.</p><p>Knowledge. The true path to Kaecilius’ heart.</p><p>Ignoring the sounds around him, his companions’ exclamations and cheers, as well as Anthony’s crowing over his mentor’s gifts, he picked up one, then another tome, reading the inscriptions as he went.</p><p>‘Secrets of Yggdrasil’, ‘Finding Godhood’, ‘Mastery of the Mind Arts’; each one sounded more captivating than the last.</p><p>While Kaecilius was distracted, marveling at the sight, his lover had approached, coming around the barge to greet him. “I thought that these would grab your attention, you old hoarder of knowledge,” he said with a smile, patting Kaecilius on the arm and pulling him out of his distracted state. “And there’s an entire library more down there.”</p><p>“You really do know how to tempt me, my darling Anthony,” Kaecilius replied, leaning over and giving his lover a passionate kiss. “I would do almost anything for full access to this collection.”</p><p>“And just think, all you had to do was befriend little old me.”</p><p>“Indeed. And glad I am that I took the risk.”</p><p>“Aw, Kae, baby, you say the nicest things.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. An Emotional Breakthrough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A lot of this chapter is quite fluffy and was not in my original outline. But it really gave me the chance to further flesh out the rare-pair that ended up becoming the heart of the story.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>An Emotional Breakthrough</h1>
<p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Hey Kae, check this out,” Tony said as he used his hands to manipulate the illusory schematic in front of him.</p>
<p>It glowed in the low light, with runes shining the gold that characterized the Mystic Arts interspersed with others in emerald green, rust, bronze, and even Tony’s personal bright blue. From the wrong angle, the Ward looked like a chaotic mess, but when one adjusted their position its secrets began to be revealed.</p>
<p>Layered atop one another were the sequences intended for physical protection: against impact, fire, extreme cold, oxidization, corrosion, and rust. Closely linked were the schemes which focused on more human dangers – direct attack, sabotage, or even neglect. There was even a schema designed to protect against more esoteric dangers such as eldritch beings or hostile sorcerers.</p>
<p>The flip side of the Ward focused on observation. By tapping into those sequences in the Ward, its master would be able to view anything happening in and around its borders. And said viewing privileges weren’t just in real-time. With a bit of work, the Ward-Master could access mystical recordings of events that had occurred in the past.</p>
<p>In point of fact, this layered Ward was the mystical equivalent of a high-end mundane security system.</p>
<p>“Not bad for a relative neophyte, huh, Magic Man?” Tony added as his lover came over to his side. Kaecilius’ dark eyes were focused, flashing back and forth as he parsed the various layers of the Ward schema.</p>
<p><em>God, he looks gorgeous like that. </em>Tony thought, smug. <em>And he’s all mine...</em></p>
<p>“Indeed,” Kaecilius agreed, having completed his careful examination of the Ward. “But what is your intended target for the installation? After all, the Sanctum’s Wards already contain many of the schemas that you have laid out, not to mention the fact that at least one of the current layers would be in direct conflict with this building's Ward.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Tony murmured, still distracted by his earlier thought. “Oh. I mean, no, not the Sanctum. This baby is for the MCI office.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Originally established as part of JARVIS’ efforts in creating Edward Loptsson, MCI, or Monte Cristo Investments was intended to reinforce the reality of Loptsson’s wealth and influence. JARVIS had started with a base portfolio, set to match the character that Tony had laid out for Edward. To fund the portfolio, the AI used some of Tony Stark’s actual accounts, ones which his creator had turned over to his management before his disappearance, to provide the start-up capital needed to launch the business. </p>
<p>While the firm’s initial forays into the various markets were relatively small, it didn’t stay that way for long. Once he pulled treasure out of Loki’s lair, Tony quickly realized that his child's creation offered a valuable way to deal with the excess of physical wealth that the lair had provided.  He could use MCI to convert a significant fraction of the material treasure in his hands into a usable form.</p>
<p>It took a bit of work, and help from certain members of the Order, to convert the mineral resources into cash, but once that was done Tony was ready to move on to the next stage of his plan. He parlayed JARVIS’ near-instantaneous knowledge of business affairs worldwide, as well as Tony’s own decades of experience as the CEO of a Fortune 500 Company, to adjust MCI’s portfolio to one that should see tremendous short term gains.</p>
<p>Sure enough, before too long their strategy paid off, granting MCI tremendous returns far in excess of their original investments. Now he had a real business. And of course, a real business needed a real, physical office.</p>
<p>Here, once again, JARVIS had come to his aid, with a bit of help from Kaecilius’ acolytes as physical proxies. Working together, they rented out a couple of floors of office space in a Manhattan skyscraper not far from both the Sanctum’s Greenwich Village location and the financial hub that was Wall Street. Then, they moved in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Kaecilius said in reply to Tony’s earlier comment. “The fact that it is for an office that must incorporate a space that is open to the public would explain some of the secondary schemas. I had wondered why there was such a sharp delineation between sections within the Ward, but that would allow you to designate varying levels of protection by area.”</p>
<p>“Correct, my Lithuanian stud-muffin,” Tony agreed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some carving to do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The stone that Tony had chosen to use as a base for the Ward was actually a block of gold-titanium alloy. It was the same material that he had once used to build the Mark II, the second generation of the armor that had helped him to escape the Ten Rings. While the Iron Soldier was Stane’s corrupted version of the Mark I, the Mark II still remained in storage at Tony’s mothballed Malibu mansion, along with his hibernating bots. The callback to Tony’s former life as an inventor felt oddly appropriate. Armor was a defensive measure that could also be used for offense, just like a Ward.</p>
<p>Given the nature of the material that he was using, Tony had decided that the best way to do his carving was to use the latest in modern technology. And, of course, Tony’s personal lab at the New York Sanctum had such toys already installed.</p>
<p>The lab was a homecoming present from his lover, as they transitioned from the heights of Kamar Taj back into the heart of Western civilization. His servers were left behind in the ancient fortress, as its unique location outside of normal space was an extra firewall that prevented any attempts at hacking them. Those servers would continue to be used for information gathering and processing, as well as long-term data storage.</p>
<p>This lab, on the other hand, was intended for experimentation. At his core, Tony would always be an innovator, an inventor; it was just the nature of his projects which had changed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With the comfort of long practice, Tony pushed the expanded schematic of the planned Ward off to one side of the workspace. Then, he wrestled the blank Wardstone into position. It was set on a flat platform at the center of the lab. It was this rotating platform, together with a low-power laser on a robotic armature, which he would use to perform the task of carving his Ward. Getting the programming for the system just right was only part of the puzzle. Tony also had to push just the right amount of magical power into the runes as they were scribed in order to make the Ward work. It was delicate work and required his full attention.</p>
<p>But, after a couple of days of nearly non-stop effort, it was ready.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wish you could See this, baby J,” Tony said as he completed the final rune and hit the kill switch on the laser, releasing his grip on his Magical core at the same time. “It is so beautiful with the Sight.”</p>
<p>“If I may, Sir, the project appears to be quite aesthetically pleasing to my sensors, even without access to your special talents.”</p>
<p>“You say the nicest things, darling boy,” Tony said with a grin.</p>
<p>With the laser disengaged, Tony could remove the safety goggles that he had been wearing. Once the protective glasses were off, Tony blinked and disengaged his Mage Sight. He wanted to see what JARVIS saw.</p>
<p>Sure enough, to the naked eye, the Wardstone looked like an incredible piece of modern art.</p>
<p>Its overall shape was roughly cylindrical, with precisely one hundred and twenty identical rectangle facets creating the curved surface. A rune sequence ran vertically along the horizontal centerline of each facet, its details difficult to see due to the nature of the carving. By design, the material etched away by the beam was mere millimeters in depth and the carving also caused little to no discoloration of the alloy.</p>
<p>It was only when a bright light was shined at an angle to a particular facet that the rune sequence at its center became fully visible. Under those conditions, the shadows created by the difference in material height revealed the runes hidden on the various facets of the Wardstone. All in all, it was absolutely breathtaking, unsurprising given the amount of effort that it had taken.</p>
<p>Between the design and manufacture, that single stone represented about a month of Tony’s time all told.</p>
<p>“You know, I think you might be right,” the proud creator said with a grin. “I’m thinking that we can use it as a base for a table in the office’s reception area. Hiding in plain sight, as it were.” Then he yawned. “But first, first daddy needs a little beauty sleep.”</p>
<p>Stumbling over to the couch that sat in one corner of the workshop, he collapsed onto it with a sigh. Less than a minute later, he was fast asleep.</p>
<p>Tony was so tired that, when Kaecilius stopped by an hour later to check on him, he didn’t even stir. Instead, he slept on. Kaecilius took a minute to examine the completed Wardstone. Then, he pulled the blanket off the side of the couch and lay it over Tony’s body before turning to leave him alone once more.</p>
<p>Though he was still deeply asleep, Tony’s body shifted a bit of its own accord, wrapping itself further into the warmth that the blanket supplied.</p>
<p>“Thanks, mama bear,” Tony slurred as he turned over in his sleep, causing Kaecilius’ mouth to turn upwards at the corners.</p>
<p>“Sleep well, my Anthony,” he said quietly, before leaving the room. The computer-connected lights dimmed at JARVIS’ command, and the door locked behind him with a distinct clunk. JARVIS would make sure that his Sir got a proper rest after his hard labor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Given the amount of mental, physical, and magical effort that the project had required, it was hardly a surprise when Tony’s nap morphed into something far more substantial. In the end, he slept for nearly a whole day before the grumbling of his stomach finally woke him from his slumber.</p>
<p>Rubbing his eyes to clear the crustiness, Tony sat up from the couch where he had slept with a hearty groan. Regardless of the quality of the bed, that long of a rest was bound to lead to stiffness. Not to mention the workout that his muscles had experienced during the construction of his Wardstone. He had been forced to contort his body into all kinds of awkward positions in order to achieve the perfect carving angle for each facet of the stone.</p>
<p> As he followed up his first motion with a series of seated stretches, working out the kinks in his arms and back, Tony was delighted to realize that he was not alone.</p>
<p>Kaecilius was already there, seated in the wingback chair that stood at an angle to the couch where Tony had slept. Going by the mug of still steaming tea resting on its side table and the closed book which he held in his lap, a single finger bookmarking his place, he had been there for some time.</p>
<p>“Good morning,” Kaecilius said, offering his still waking lover a serene smile. “It is good to see you awake, Anthony.”</p>
<p>Then he waved towards the coffee table that sat before Tony’s couch. Resting on its surface was a substantial meal, including an insulated carafe that Tony knew was full of delicious coffee.</p>
<p>He surged forward eagerly and poured himself a brimming cup of that glorious brown nectar.</p>
<p>“Ah,” he sighed, letting the steam and scent wash over his face for a moment before he took his first, deep sip. “Excellent, as always. I love you so much, beloved.”</p>
<p>“Are you speaking to me or to the coffee?” Despite the sarcastic bent of his words, Kaecilius’ tone was fond.</p>
<p>“Well, oh wise master, what do you think?”</p>
<p>“I would not dare to venture a guess. But you cannot subsist on coffee alone, no matter how wonderful you find it. Please. Eat something as well.”</p>
<p>“Fine, be that way, Mrs. Weasley,” Tony said, flashing a put-upon look, one that he didn’t really mean. He was honestly starving and had no real objection to eating his fill. As long as the waters of life accompanied the meal he was a happy man. So, with a will, he dived into the hot dishes.</p>
<p>A full English breakfast; eggs, sausage, bacon, porridge, fried tomatoes, etc. All of it went down his gullet in short order, along with the entire carafe of hot coffee.</p>
<p>A quiet snort distracted him from his single-minded agenda just as he washed the last bite of sausage down with a final swallow of coffee. Looking up, Tony was unsurprised to see Kaecilius still watching him with that same serene smile.</p>
<p>“What, I was hungry.”</p>
<p>“Indeed you were, dear heart, and understandably so. That working of yours is quite impressive to see now that it is complete.”</p>
<p>“Really?” While Tony liked to pretend to be uncaring of other people’s opinions, he still couldn’t help but perk up at the compliment.</p>
<p>“Would I lie to you?”</p>
<p><em>Yes, </em>Tony’s damning subconscious and low sense of self-worth proclaimed. But, “I suppose not,” was what he said.</p>
<p>“Then trust me when I say that your work is on par with what I have seen from those with decades of experience in the Mystic Arts, let alone your bare handful of years.”</p>
<p>Kaecilius’ words made Tony smile. “It’s not quite finished yet I still need to get it installed in its permanent home.”</p>
<p>“True. And transport is ready and waiting for you to say the word.”</p>
<p>With a grin, Tony climbed to his feet, pushing the blanket that had been covering him off to the side as he did so.</p>
<p>“Then let’s have at it, Magic Man.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Due to the nature of the Wardstone, it could not be transported by portal without compromising the magics contained within its heart. Instead, it was carefully packaged in a traveling crate, carried manually down the hall and out the door of the Sanctum, and then loaded onto the bed of a small truck. Wanting to accompany his newest baby on its maiden journey, Tony climbed into the truck’s passenger seat just as its driver started the ignition.</p>
<p>The drive through the streets of Manhattan was both long and short, as they made their way through the crowds that filled the roads and sidewalks alike. With his natural magical resources in the process of replenishing themselves after the recent working, Tony had decided to forgo cloaking himself in an illusion. Instead, he was relying on the comfortable hoodie that he had pulled on before leaving the Sanctum and a pair of sunglasses, as well as the fact that Tony Stark was ‘dead’, to keep himself from being recognized.</p>
<p>When they pulled up to the loading dock of the building that housed MCI’s headquarters, Tony was unsurprised to be greeted by Kaecilius and his companions. Without the travel restriction that had forced Tony to make the journey via truck, the others could portal themselves across the city in an instant.</p>
<p>Manhandling the bulky and heavy crate in the tight quarters of the loading dock was a bit finicky, but they did eventually manage to get it loaded into the freight elevator. From there, all that they had to do was to push UP.</p>
<p>After a short ride in a fast car, the elevator opened up into the heart of the new MCI office space.</p>
<p>From his position at the side of the Wardstone’s crate, Tony could see bare drywall and open doorways everywhere that he looked. At this point in the construction, there was still a straight path from the utility room, where the elevator doors stood, to the space that had been designated as the reception area. It was here that the Wardstone would find its permanent home.</p>
<p>As he worked to open the crate and maneuver his faceted cylinder of gold-titanium alloy into position, Tony took occasional breaks. He couldn’t help but glance out the nearby floor-to-ceiling windows, especially as they looked out onto the heart of the City below. It was a sight that filled him with a sense of fond nostalgia, a reminder of childhood visits to the old Stark Industries offices in Midtown Manhattan.</p>
<p>Once the crate was cracked open, it didn’t take long before the Wardstone was in place, directly in front of the doors that led to the office’s main entrance and the bank of passenger elevators that served all of the building’s various offices. When the messy part of the construction was complete, a circular glass tabletop would be placed atop the carved plinth to disguise it. But, for now, it stood on its own, a solid plinth that glowed in the morning light.</p>
<p>Now, Tony just needed to activate the Ward.</p>
<p>Nervous, he couldn’t help but glance over towards Kaecilius. The experienced sorcerer was hovering nearby, ready to step in if needed.</p>
<p>Absurdly comforted by the sight, Tony took in a deep breath. He could do this.</p>
<p>Reaching deep into the core of the Wardstone, he found the tiny lock that he had set at its heart. The key: a twist of Tony’s magic, its unique signature the only possible candidate for Ward activation or modification.</p>
<p>Fortunately, the extended rest that he’d gotten along with the meal that Kaecilius had encouraged him to eat had managed to restore enough of Tony’s reserves. Pulling out the smallest strand of his still mostly drained magical strength, Tony inserted it into the lock, and with the flick of a wrist, turned it.</p>
<p>The Ward opened up like a flower blooming in fast-forward, unfurling its layers one at a time until the full grandeur of the working was in place. With his Mage Sight active, Tony could see the same colors that had filled his illusory schematic, more vibrant and powerful than any illusion could create.</p>
<p>“Beautiful,” he breathed.</p>
<p>“Yes. It is,” Kaecilius agreed. Walking up to Tony’s side, he placed a single large hand on his lover’s shoulder in a show of admiration. As Tony leaned into the warm physical contact, he took the moment to just bask. All around them, he could hear the other Order members who had helped with the installation. They were discussing the Mystically visible parts of the Ward, their tones similarly admiring.</p>
<p>Through the windows to the outside, Tony could see flakes of an early snow begin to fall. Yes, today was a good day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Some weeks later, standing in the same exact spot, Tony’s mood was quite the reverse.</p>
<p>It wasn’t his surroundings.</p>
<p>No, MCI’s new office space had only grown more spectacular as the various contractors finished their work and the workplace transitioned into full-time use.</p>
<p>Where there had once been a straight shot from the freight elevator, now a curved mahogany desk with a high counter stood. The floor had been covered in luxuriously plush carpeting and paint and framed art filled the walls. And of course, at the center of the room was the Wardstone, now covered with the planned glass tabletop that allowed it to serve as a reception table. A floral centerpiece and a number of colorful but tasteful brochures were scattered across the transparent surface.</p>
<p>It wasn’t even the business.</p>
<p>Just like the space where it was housed, Edward Loptsson’s investment firm had grown in leaps and bounds.</p>
<p>The careful portfolio that Tony and JARVIS had created had indeed seen tremendous success. With that success had come further investors. While some of these investors were part of the grand scheme, either fictional clients created on JARVIS’ servers as a way to funnel wealth into the company or members of the Order who had chosen to support his mission with their own personal wealth, others were strangers.</p>
<p>As the company grew and gained a real presence, it had attracted an increasing amount of genuine investors. People with no connection to Tony Stark, the Order, or anyone else of significance saw the success of the firm and jumped onboard. Soon, Monte Cristo Investments was the talk of Wall-Street.</p>
<p>Of course, Wall-Street notoriety had led New York’s High Society to desperate measures, as they clamored to meet the mysterious mogul who had taken their world by storm. Swarms of holiday invitations were hand-delivered to the brand new office as the end of the year approached.</p>
<p>At first, Tony pushed the various invites aside with ease. He was not yet ready to make an official public appearance as Loptsson.</p>
<p>Instead, he responded to nearly every invitation with the same polite, but impersonal, rejection letter:</p>
<p>
  <em>Thank you for the invitation to attend ----(insert event here)--- . Unfortunately, Mister Loptsson will not be in residence in the City on the date indicated.</em>
</p>
<p>For those invitations which were purely social, a small token accompanied the response, a beautifully hand-carved paperweight whose shape exactly matched the topography of the isle of Monte Cristo.</p>
<p>That isle, located in the Mediterranean Sea not far from the site of Napoleon Bonaparte’s exile, Elba, was a rocky edifice less than five miles in diameter and wholly-owned, as tracked through an easily followed trail of shell companies, by Loptsson. It was this site that the investment firm had been named in honor of.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, those invitations which were associated with a worthwhile philanthropic cause received the same response and token, along with an additional prize. Their letters were each accompanied by rather a generous donation to the designated charity that the event was meant to support, each one commensurate with the appropriate need. All told, the amount that MCI donated towards the various causes totaled well over a million dollars.</p>
<p>Of course, that was peanuts compared to the vast wealth that Tony had at his fingertips. In his mind, the large donations were a good investment. They helped to drive interest in both Loptsson as a person, and MCI as a company, to new heights. People were positively frantic to meet him and gain access to his wealth and success.</p>
<p>However, as time went on, not every invitation that came into the office could be so easily dismissed as the early offers.</p>
<p>On this particular afternoon, Tony had taken a break from his research back at the Sanctum to check on things in the office. He had portalled over to pick up the latest batch of invitations and was flipping through them to see if any caught his eye.</p>
<p>Unfortunately the one that did grab him did not do so for good reasons.</p>
<p>Instead, all it brought was upset. The note had come from Obie, or rather, according to the signature on the invitation, “Obadiah Stane, CEO and Founder of SI Global”.</p>
<p>Just reading the titles that the older man claimed had Tony practically frothing at the mouth in rage.</p>
<p>His hands shook as he struggled to find a bit of control. Meanwhile, all around him, the knick-knacks that supported the reception area’s ambiance had begun to vibrate and the office Ward had begun to spark.</p>
<p>
  <em>How Dare He!</em>
</p>
<p>Tony’s mind was a wash of fury, lacking any hint of control. Through the haze of his rage, he could see the receptionist that stood behind the desk frantically calling someone for help, but he had no idea who that would be.</p>
<p>Not until the elevator doors chimed a few moments later and a familiar face came through the office’s open doors.</p>
<p>“Easy, love,” Kaecilius said, as he pulled Tony into a tight embrace.</p>
<p>No doubt the welcome arrival was a result of the receptionist’s call. Tony knew that the older Sorcerer must have portalled into the elevator. However Kaecilius had gotten there, Tony was grateful for his presence. He leaned back into the other man’s arms, focusing on the soothing words as he struggled to regain control.</p>
<p>“You are here, with me, in New York City. Not locked up in that dungeon. The richly deserved comeuppance which you will rain down upon that man is nearly at hand. Just be patient, my love, and all will happen as you have planned.”</p>
<p>“Indeed, Sir, I find that I quite agree with your companion. We must not let your predilection for, as they say, ‘going off half-cocked’, get the best of our grand plans. Besides, may I remind you that many of those in attendance at Stane’s soiree are innocents?” JARVIS’ voice came out of the speakers of the computer system that Tony had installed in the MCI offices for his artificial child’s use.</p>
<p>“Fine,” Tony grumbled, half-heartedly. He knew that both of them were right. Around him, he could see the previous, rage driven, motion of the knick-knacks begin to calm. “I hate it when you conspire against me, babe, J.”</p>
<p>“No conspiracy necessary, dear one,” Kaecilius protested, glancing over at the wide-eyed receptionist.</p>
<p>While she was a willing ally, Tony’s little outbreak was her first exposure to the Mystic Arts. She swallowed visibly before turning to head out of the room. Tony could tell that she didn’t want to get involved with their personal business.</p>
<p>But Kaecilius was not finished with his speech. He added, “now come, I believe that a bit of a break from your business here is needed. I have been meaning to show you one of the most interesting features of the New York Sanctum. The ‘Windows onto the World’.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Spinning them both around with firm but gentle motions, he led Tony into the elevator and then, through a quickly formed portal, back to the New York Sanctum. They emerged at the base of the grand staircase in the entrance hall. The bright sunlight streamed in behind them, filtered through the stained glass that stood over the building’s front door.</p>
<p>As they made their way up the stairs and through the formerly empty halls, Kaecilius and Tony passed a number of people hard at work. While the previous Guardian of the Sanctum had been a private man, one who preferred to work alone, Kaecilius was quite the opposite. He was, above all else, a teacher.</p>
<p>Thus, he had opened up the Magically expanded structure hidden inside of the modest confines of what looked like a single New York brownstone, if a large one, to all those who wished to serve the Order at his side. Curiously, many of those who had accepted the invitation were originally from America and other so-called Western countries and were delighted to be based in more familiar surroundings than could be found in the depths of the Himalayas.</p>
<p>As Tony and Kaecilius passed those familiar faces, they were greeted fondly by everyone that they saw. A couple, more gregarious or at least more comfortable, even made lewd comments about their destination.</p>
<p>“So, was there any truth there?” Tony asked, smirking despite his flushed face. “You trying to seduce me, Magic Man?”</p>
<p>“Not at this time, Anthony. You are in need of something a bit more… adventurous.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, kinky.”</p>
<p>Kae scoffed at Tony’s comment. “I certainly hope not, but you do surprise me sometimes, dear one.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once upstairs, they headed down a wood-lined hallway that Tony hadn’t really explored yet, quickly reaching a closed door at the far end of the corridor. Behind the door was a room filled with what looked to first glance like door-sized landscape photos. But a second glance told Tony otherwise. Not only did the pictures gleam with magic to those with the Sight, but the images held within the frames were not stationary.</p>
<p>He could see the wind blowing across the sand in one, rain falling on green leaves of a jungle canopy in another and a rhino grazing on the brush in a third.</p>
<p>“What’s this?” he asked, turning to his companion, even as Kae closed the door behind him. “The mystical equivalent of a live video feed?”</p>
<p>“Not quite,” his man of mystery said, smiling like a Bond villain as he revealed his grand scheme. “I said that these are ‘The Windows onto the World’, and like any window, they open.”</p>
<p>Kae gestured towards the jungle window as he fetched a bag hanging from a peg on the back of the door through which they had entered the room.</p>
<p>“I was about to head into the Amazon jungle to replenish some of my potions supplies, and thought that you might want to accompany me.”</p>
<p>“Well, when you suggest a distraction, you certainly go big, don’t you. Giving me a rainforest to explore, huh,” Tony purred. Tucking his arm around Kaecilius’ he smirked.  “Well then, take me on an adventure, darling.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The excursion was exactly what Tony had needed to distract him from the reminders of Obadiah Stane’s villainy. When he and Kaecilius stumbled back through the portal a couple of hours later; filthy, drenched, and bearing no few scratches from encounters with the local flora and fauna, he was in a much better mood.</p>
<p>“Now that we’ve had our adventure, lovely, what do you say we withdraw to our suite? We can get cleaned up, and then you can take me to bed.”</p>
<p>“It would be my distinct pleasure to do so, Anthony.”</p>
<p>“My Prince Charming, as always,” Tony said fondly, and with a surprising amount of sincerity.</p>
<p>For that moment, he forgot his revenge. Just for that afternoon, he was going to enjoy the pleasures that his new life had brought him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A Troubling Revelation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: King T’Chaka of Wakanda</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: Due to the fact that half of this story is based in the African nation of Wakanda, parts of it may reflect certain current events in our world today. This includes references to the Los Angeles, California race riots in the early 1990s as part of a character’s backstory. Such references may be triggering for some readers, so please read responsibly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Troubling Revelation</h1><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>Even as Tony and his allies in New York City built up their financial empire, halfway across the globe the leader of an empire of a different sort found himself in the midst of a personal crisis.</p><p>It had now been eight months since the SHIELD leaks went public. In that time, the secretive African nation of Wakanda had faced a period of severe turmoil. The spotlight of critical international attention had been placed on them, and the initial consequences were not pleasant. But now, <em>Bast be praised</em>, it seemed that the worst of that disfavor had passed.</p><p> </p><p>The upswing had begun a couple of months after the initial exposure.</p><p>It was then that the actions of Nakia and her team as they reoriented the work of the War Dogs in this new, post-leak, world began to take effect. T’Chaka had to admit that watching his beloved ‘daughter of the heart’ as she put in long hours and pushed herself to new heights in the service of her nation was an inspiration.</p><p>As the spring turned to summer, the global perception of Wakanda continued to change and evolve, finding a new equilibrium. At the same time, the fickle nature and short attention span of the public in the Colonizer nations, as well as the growing heat and humidity that came with the change of seasons, had led to the former crowds of protestors fleeing in droves.</p><p>With their departure, all that remained at the Wakandan border was the still expanding refugee camp and the armed encampments scattered within its midst. But soon, even that changed.</p><p> </p><p>It was early in the month of July, the night of the first new moon after the summer equinox. On that particular night, the air was hot and heavy with growing moisture, and storm clouds hid the stars from view. Having retired to his bedchamber early that evening with his beloved wife and Queen Ramonda, T’Chaka was in deep repose. But then, in the middle of the night, his sleep was interrupted by a brusque knock on the chamber’s door.</p><p>The King’s immediate reaction upon awakening was one of concern. He knew that the guards would not allow anyone to disturb their charges unless it was truly necessary. From her place by his side, Ramonda also stirred, awakened by the knock.</p><p>“Go back to sleep, my Queen,” he told her as he climbed out of the bed. “If you need to be up, I will fetch you myself.”</p><p>Suppressing a yawn, he walked over to the door, opening it just enough to slip out. Once outside, he took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the change in illumination, but soon he was able to see his visitor. There, bracketed by his guardian Dora, stood a fully armed and armored Okoye. Her face was stoic, giving away nothing.</p><p>“General,” T’Chaka said, nodding his head as he mentally pushed off any remnants of sleep. “What is it?”</p><p>“A disturbance at the border, my King,” she replied.</p><p>“Of course,” he said with a sigh.</p><p>It was to be expected that, without the buffer of the Westerners, new conflicts would erupt. Many of the warlords whose encampments were embedded in the refugee camp were rivals at best and deadly enemies at worst.</p><p>After accepting a formal robe and shoes from a hovering attendant, who had appeared as he was speaking with the general, they headed out.</p><p>The King followed his loyal subordinate through the halls of the palace until they reached the primary landing platform. It was there that the Royal Talon stood, waiting for their arrival.</p><p>Without hesitation, T’Chaka strode aboard, accompanied by Okoye and a full complement of armored Dora.</p><p>As the jet soared through the pitch-black night, over the expanse of the jungle that stretched between the capitol and river flatlands where the various invaders had laid their encampments, Okoye continued with her briefing.</p><p>To his surprise, it wasn’t an attack, or at least not one on the Wakandans.</p><p>Instead, it seemed that the armed encampments scattered across the river valley were being menaced by a third party, someone from outside the border shield. According to Okoye, the first attack had begun shortly after full dark had fallen. It had started with a smattering of gunfire; as if someone in the camp furthest to the north had spooked and fired indiscriminately. But it didn’t stop there. There was a second burst near the first, and then a third, way on the other side of the valley.</p><p>Soon, the entire encampment was engulfed in fighting.</p><p>Yells and screaming mixed with the sporadic bursts of guns on full auto. Then someone had tipped over one of the flame barrels that the hostile soldiers had been using to provide heat and light. The flames quickly spread from one tent to another, carried by running individuals and flying debris alike.</p><p>From the beginning of the fighting, those on duty in the Wakanda camp had been keeping an eye on the situation.</p><p>While the night and the smoke and flames made it difficult to make out many details with the naked eye, the warriors did have another resource. Those on duty in the evening hours carried with them hand-held binoculars which were equipped with night vision and heat sensors.</p><p>Despite the interference, with the aid of their equipment they were able to glimpse snippets of physical fights. They watched as gun-toting troops were taken out efficiently by apparently unarmed figures. The attackers were aggressive in their movements, as they passed between encampments without signs of slowing down. According to Okoye, those amongst the Wakandan troops who had spotted them spoke highly of what could be seen of their skills.</p><p>Given that fact, it came as no surprise to the watchers when the fights continued to spread, expanding beyond the original sites to encompass the entire collection of invaders.</p><p> </p><p>Okoye had just finished speaking when T’Chaka, glancing out the front windshield of the Royal Talon, noticed a glow appearing on the horizon before them. At first, he assumed that it was caused by the shield being activated, but as they drew closer they realized that it was the result of the now-raging fires that had spread with the fighting.</p><p>Moving swiftly, the jet soon crossed the threshold of the Wakandan shield, sending ripples along its surface. Given the circumstances, the thought of a spy catching sight of anything during the disruption seemed irrelevant. Now was not the time to worry about such things.</p><p>Once the Talon had settled on the ground near the Wakandan troops’ main headquarters, Okoye, T’Chaka, and the other Dora trooped out first.</p><p>As they strode forward towards the waiting commander, T’Chaka could hear the reinforcements who had hitched a ride on Talon as they streamed out of the plane and into the camp. T'Chaka was sure that they already had their assignments and were headed for pre-arranged duty stations.</p><p>In the stark illumination provided by the jet’s running lights, T’Chaka could see the gathered delegation. W’Kabi, the warrior in charge of the Wakandan troops on-site at the border, was waiting patiently, his hands crossed behind his back, along with a handful of armed subordinates.</p><p>“Sire,” he said with a slight bow. “I apologize for disturbing your night, but given the circumstances, I felt that it was necessary.”</p><p>He offered Okoye a brief smile, greeting his love, before continuing. “I am certain that the General has already given you an overview of the situation. If you would like to follow me, I can give you a first-hand look.”</p><p>“Please,” T’Chaka agreed.</p><p>And with that, they headed out, making for the forward edge of the camp.</p><p> </p><p>As he looked across the bare earth of the demilitarized zone to see the utter chaos that was the combined refugee and armed camps, all that T’Chaka could feel was grief. There was no doubt in his mind that a multitude of lives would be lost in that mess, including a number of innocents. But he knew that sending his people in would not help. If anything, they would only make matters worse. So all that he and the others could do was to hold a vigil and wait.</p><p>By the time that dawn spread its rosy fingers across the sky, the sounds of battle had almost entirely disappeared. The worst of the fires had been quenched or faded to embers, and haze of smoke hung over the valley, hiding the embattled camps from view. Now, all that could be heard echoing across the open plain were cries: ones of pain, grief, mourning, or all three at the same time.</p><p>T’Chaka, who had been joined at various points during his vigil by his wife, son, and several of his Councilors, finally gave the signal.</p><p>It was time for the Wakandans to move in.</p><p>Of course, as the reigning monarch, it was not his place to be a part of the first wave of investigators. Instead, he remained behind, letting W’Kabi and his warriors take the lead. Squads moved in, crossing the barren ground of the demilitarized zone cautiously. They kept their personal shields forward, ready in case of an attack. But none occurred. Not when they reached the halfway point, not when they reached the edge of the closest camps, not even as they made their way through the wreckage.</p><p>As T’Chaka and his companions stood, waiting, the reports began to pour in.</p><p>One at a time, the squads called back with their findings.</p><p>For those who found themselves within one of the former militia encampments, the scene that they encountered was one of total devastation. There were dead bodies everywhere; whether victims of automatic weapons, fire, or covered in wounds from bladed weapons. The only survivors to be found in those camps were a handful of weeping women. Some were huddled over fallen bodies openly mourning, while others sat almost stoic in the wreckage of their former residences.</p><p>Those investigating the refugee camps found more variation within their depths.</p><p>While there were some areas that looked like the militia ruins except with fewer dead bodies, others were surprisingly intact. In them, family groups were huddled together, scared and covered in soot but otherwise unharmed. They instantly surrendered to the investigating Wakandans, begging them for help with broken voices.</p><p>It was one of these groups that finally gave some real insight into the night’s excitement.</p><p>Each of the warrior squads had been accompanied by at least one War Dog, fully equipped to carry out an investigation. This included their field commander, Nakia. Like the others, she had her Kimoyo Beads actively recording and transmitting back to headquarters and the King’s company.</p><p>Her squad had been one of those who had infiltrated a refugee camp, one which had a decent number of surviving family groups.</p><p>Once her squad was sure that it was safe for her to do so, she stopped to talk to one young family sitting together in the midst of the devastation. They had survived the night’s excitement with minimal injuries – minor burns, a few scrapes – though most of their belongings had been burned. The wife, while begging for food to feed her starving children, had made an aside to her husband.</p><p>“We would have been better off if you weren’t around,” she had hissed. “Then the monkey men might have offered us the same thing as they did Mariya and her children.”</p><p>“Monkey men?” Nakia asked.</p><p>The husband replied, bitterly, “those who attacked in the night. They were dressed like the ancients, and hid their faces behind masks in the shape of the great ape.”</p><p>Like all Wakandans, Nakia and her listeners knew exactly what that meant.</p><p>
  <em>Jabari. </em>
</p><p>That secretive tribe lived deep in the mountains of Wakanda. Unlike the rest of the nation, the Jabari chose to keep the traditions of their ancestors instead of adapting to the technological advances that came with access to Vibranium. They also served the gorilla god Hanuman instead of the panther goddess Bast, which explained the masks that they wore.</p><p>“And what exactly did they say?” she asked.</p><p>“They made an offer to some of the women and children, those without men or boys over a certain age. Sanctuary and a life free from starvation or hardship in exchange for giving up all contact with their former lives.”</p><p>“But you wouldn’t let us go with them,” the wife interrupted. “We could be safe now, if not for you,” she sobbed, hugging her baby to her.</p><p>Without a word, Nakia waved one of the hovering warriors over. Then, with a few whispered words, she sent them off to fetch provisions for the helpful couple. In the meantime, she continued to extract further information about the Jabari warriors who they had seen.</p><p> </p><p>All across the camps, similar stories were being passed along.</p><p>In one fell sweep, the Jabari had turned the external military threat into nothing. And they did so without implicating their advanced brethren. It was a surprisingly generous act and one that T’Chaka knew that he would be unable to publicly acknowledge. Instead, they would have to encourage the narrative that the warlords’ internal conflicts had caused the encampments to implode.</p><p>In the meantime, there were still a large number of innocent refugees that remained, now worse off than they had been before. With the numbers down to such low levels, there was plenty of room in the camps that the Wakandan warriors and War Dogs had been using on the far side of the valley to host all of the survivors.</p><p>These camps, while still outside of the Wakandan shield, hid comfort and modernity under their rural façade. As such, they were a blessing for the refugees that had chosen to stay behind in the wreckage following the attack rather than going with the Jabari or fleeing into the jungle.</p><p>And it was here that T’Chaka’s wife, Queen Ramonda, found her opportunity to shine.</p><p>Now that the camps were no longer mixed with hostile troops, she was able to mobilize her network made up of the wives and mothers of Wakanda. These women lacked the training of a War Dog or warrior. Instead, they found a different way to support the fight. With the experience of raising families, they were able to identify a complete list of all that the refugee families would need to survive. Everything from food to clothes, to toiletries and other necessities, were collected in huge batches and delivered to the camps. There were even a collection of toys and other such luxuries, many of them a result of donation drives at the Wakandan public schools.</p><p>Meanwhile, a couple of the neighboring warlords who had been responsible for the earlier armed camps, having not learned their lesson, sent new troops out in a fresh attempt to invade. But without the cover of the refugees and protestors, the Wakandans were able to rout the invaders with ease. By the time that the rainy season came to a close, the Wakandan border was calm once again.</p><p> </p><p>While the border was calm, the question of what to do with the refugees that continued to trickle into the border camps in the long term had yet to be answered in any definitive way.</p><p>Wakanda did not want to turn away those in need. After all, a large percentage of the War Dogs’ work had always been oriented around relief efforts for their Black brothers and sisters, and now that they could provide support openly almost the entire country had embraced the charge. However, Wakanda was not large enough to handle mass emigration, nor did they have the infrastructure to handle the sheer volume of the refugees in the long term.</p><p>In the meantime, between the volunteers led by the queen and her network and the guardian warriors, the refugees were in better shape than many had ever been before. So, T’Chaka and his council had time to find a good solution. Or rather, Prince T’Challa did.</p><p>Despite his age and education, including a bachelor’s degree and an MBA from Oxford University, he had little direct experience with problem-solving on this scale. So, his father and the rest of the ruling council all agreed that finding a solution for the refugee issue would be an excellent learning experience for a future king. Besides, with accomplished friends like W’Kabi, Nakia, and Okoye on his side, T’Challa already had the start of his own future Royal Council.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, with his wife and son leading efforts to address the remaining external threats left from the SHIELD leaks, T’Chaka finally had a bit of open time in his schedule. Now, he could pull the exposed thread, revealed by the leaks, which had been troubling him.</p><p>It had started when Nakia, in the process of taking over management of the War Dogs, had almost immediately uncovered a handful of missions where small details outlined in the official reports didn’t agree with her first-hand knowledge. Initially, he had been disappointed but unsurprised. His War Dogs were human, after all, and mistakes were easy to make in recounting often stressful experiences.</p><p>However, as she continued her investigation, she quickly realized and reported that it wasn’t just a handful of discrepancies, but rather a systematic alteration of mission reports. </p><p>This raised a red flag in both of their minds.</p><p>At the time, Nakia and her team were far too busy putting out immediate fires to follow up on her discoveries. However, she did recommend a couple of older former operatives as excellent resources who would be able to dig through the archives. They, with help from a team of data mining experts and the computational powerhouse of JARVIS, combed through all of Wakanda’s databases.</p><p>Their assignment: to compare the official records of Wakanda’s espionage departments with what actually occurred.</p><p>To accomplish this, they started with the latest reports, the ones filed by still active agents. For each report, they asked the War Dog who had written the original report to look through the file and compare it to the mission as they remembered it. Ostensibly, the War Dogs were looking for SHIELD involvement, but in reality, they were also checking for discrepancies.</p><p>Across the board, the task force found that while the missions themselves went as the reports described it was not uncommon for the mission’s emphasis, especially in the briefing stage, to have a very different intent than the one outlined in the final report. From the reports delivered, it appeared that the briefings had left many War Dogs certain that Wakanda’s leadership didn’t care about the suffering of their Black Brothers and Sisters.</p><p>While it was disturbing for T’Chaka to realize that so many of his people thought him unfeeling about tragedies beyond their borders, again it was possible the distorted views could simply be a result of personal bias on either side of the briefing table.</p><p>Once the missions with surviving agents were done, the task force turned their attention to those where the War Dogs didn’t come back alive.</p><p>It was here that the task force first found clear evidence of deliberate informational sabotage.</p><p> When they compared the reports compiled by the former War Dog leadership with other sources of data: local reports, the leaked SHIELD database, etc. they found clear points of divergence. Even taking into account the bias inherent in the alternate sources, it was clear that T’Chaka and his council had not received accurate reports of those missions.</p><p>In most cases, the discrepancies were small, but as the investigation progressed they built up a disturbing picture. There was a conspiracy, one which included many of the higher-ranked members of the War Dogs’ organization. What exactly their intention might be was unclear at this stage. What was evident was that they’d actively conspired to direct Wakanda’s interactions with the outside world in accordance with their agenda.</p><p>Given that many of the potential suspects in the conspiracy were well-respected Wakandan elders, including T’Chaka’s close friend and advisor Zuri, the King kept the investigation close to his chest. Besides the task force, the only ones aware of the scope of the investigation were Nakia and T’Chaka himself. Everyone else was given the impression that the review of the War Dogs’ files was a part of the recovery efforts in the aftermath of the SHIELD affair. It made a perfect cover, one which even T’Chaka’s beloved wife and son believed.</p><p> </p><p>Now, as the dry season had gone into full swing and the country rejoiced over an apparent end to the recent bout of troubles, T’Chaka received a call. Nakia wanted a meeting, and from the tone of her voice, she did not have good news. So, that evening, after a family dinner that brought all four of the royals together, T’Chaka headed back to his office. He knew that Nakia had already arranged to meet him there, so, when he reached the door, T’Chaka dismissed the hovering Dora with an offhanded wave.</p><p>“I am not to be disturbed for anything other than an absolute necessity,” he commanded them as he swung the door shut. With the ease of long habit, he clicked the lock that made it practically impossible to open from the outside. Then he made his way along the circumference of the room, activating the various anti-surveillance devices embedded into the walls and furniture as he walked. When he was certain that there was no way for anyone, even one with preternaturally enhanced senses, to overhear, he walked over to the couch where Nakia already sat, waiting.</p><p>“You said that you had sensitive news,” he stated quietly.</p><p>“I did,” she agreed, the smile that she used to greet her Malume fading. “The team has made a new, and particularly troubling, discovery.”</p><p>“There have been any number of troubling revelations of late, Nakia, what makes this one so special?” he asked, dreading the answer.</p><p>“Because it has to do with a member of your family,” she replied.</p><p>“T’Challa? Ramonda? Not my baby girl?” he asked, growing even more disturbed as she shook her head to each name.</p><p>“No, Malume, not a royal member of the Golden Tribe currently living in Wakanda,” she finally said.</p><p>T’Chaka wracked his brain. As far as he knew there were no living relatives that met that criterion. His only brother was long deceased, and none of his aunts, uncles, or extended cousins had chosen to live outside of Wakanda.</p><p>
  <em>Who could Nakia mean?</em>
</p><p>Then it hit him. She didn’t say that the family member was living.</p><p><em>N’Jobu</em>.</p><p>His brother may have been long deceased, but he was a War Dog before his death. Did this have to do with one of his missions?</p><p>As T’Chaka mentioned his brother’s name, Nakia raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by his insight. But then, a bit reluctantly, she nodded.</p><p>
  <em>Did, did she uncover the truth about  N'Jobu's death?</em>
</p><p>As far as T’Chaka knew the only people aware of the details of N’Jobu’s death were those present on that night: T’Chaka himself, the two Dora, and… his breath caught… <em>Zuri.</em> T’Chaka knew that Zuri was one of the people that the investigative team was targeting but he had not realized that N’Jobu’s final mission would come up in the course of that investigation.</p><p>“What… what did you find?” he asked, his voice taut with tension. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. But that was part of the burden of being King. Not avoiding the difficult news.</p><p>“Tell me, Sire, what do you know about your brother’s last mission?” Nakia’s tone was firm, with no hint of its usual affection.</p><p>
  <em>What had she learned?</em>
</p><p>Digging through the recesses of his memory, T’Chaka cast his mind back almost two decades.</p><p> </p><p>It was a time of transition.</p><p>While his father, King Azzuri, had passed him the mantle of Black Panther many years before, it was less than a year since he had officially stepped down as King of Wakanda. T’Chaka knew that his father had waited until all of his sons were old enough to make an informed decision about pursuing the position of King before announcing his choice for the succession.</p><p>Indeed, despite being over a decade younger than his brother, N’Jobu could have easily tried for the throne. The traditions of Wakanda stated that any member of the royal clan could challenge if they felt that they could do a better job than the last King’s chosen successor.</p><p>Though he believed himself to be the right man for the job, T’Chaka had to admit that he had been relieved not to face such a challenge on the day of his ascendance. Following in his father’s footsteps would be hard enough. After all, the older man had successfully guided the nation through the tumultuous decades following the World Wars, even as the <em>Colonizers’</em> influence on the continent changed and morphed into its current form.</p><p>But N’Jobu showed no interest in becoming King.</p><p>Instead, he had declared his intention of working as a War Dog. Just before T’Chaka’s ascension to the throne, he had graduated from Howard University, in America. It was there that he had become fascinated by the American Civil Rights movement and the change that was happening in that influential nation.</p><p>Thus, when he was assigned a long-term position in that country, T’Chaka had been unsurprised by the choice. It was a good fit for his passionate younger brother.</p><p>At first, things in America appeared well.</p><p>N’Jobu’s reports all spoke of the good work that he was doing, both in terms of helping their Black brothers and sisters and in safeguarding Wakandan interests on the Western coast of America. He did occasionally rage about the injustice that he witnessed, but it was always tinged with hope.</p><p>But then, in early 1992, something changed.</p><p>N’Jobu, or rather Nathan Stevens as his American identification named him, was living in Los Angeles when a shocking video led to a series of violent race riots that spread across the city. While T’Chaka’s knowledge of that tragedy was limited, he knew that his brother had found himself in the heart of the chaos and had seen the losses that it caused first hand.</p><p>When he was summoned back to Wakanda to report on what he had witnessed in person, N’Jobu had been a mess.</p><p>He had spoken passionately to T’Chaka and the council on the struggles that African Americans faced in their fight for equality within their nation. He had also begged them to provide support for their embattled brethren. N’Jobu felt that it was time for Wakanda to emerge from the shadows and enter global politics on a grander scale.</p><p>Perhaps, he had argued, the evidence that a Black nation could be something other than an impoverished state would inspire real change. And if not, then there was always the stick. As the sole owners of the world’s supply of Vibranium, Wakanda had the ultimate bargaining tool.</p><p>But T’Chaka and his newly-appointed council had disagreed.</p><p>They felt that the time was not right for full exposure. Instead, they proposed a subtler approach. N’Jobu would return to America, where he would funnel resources into the communities with the greatest need.</p><p>While not entirely happy, N’Jobu appeared to accept the compromise.</p><p>After bidding his brother and sister-in-law and their young son, his nephew, farewell, he returned to his home/mission in the United States.</p><p>Following advice from the, at the time, head of the War Dogs, T’Chaka had dispatched young Zuri, son of Badu, a young operative about his brother’s age, to act as a fail-safe. His mission was to support N’Jobu as an American ally while monitoring the passionate man for any signs that he might betray their home country.</p><p>It was Zuri who had alerted the King that his brother had gone off the rails, providing Ulysses Klaue with the information that the arms dealer needed to hijack a Vibranium shipment in exchange for a massive collection of weapons. According to Zuri, N’Jobu was planning a prison break, one which would free those jailed for actions taken during the riots earlier in the year.</p><p>A betrayed T’Chaka had gone to confront his brother, a visit which had ended up costing N’Jobu his life.</p><p>Given the circumstances, he had decided to keep the details of N’Jobu’s last mission a secret.</p><p>As far as the Wakandan people knew, Prince N’Jobu had died on the mission, still loyal to his country.</p><p>At the time, a grieving T’Chaka had left the clean-up of N’Jobu’s last mission to Zuri, who had remained behind while his King had returned to Wakanda in secret. It was he who had sent formal notice of N’Jobu’s death back to Wakanda, before returning himself a few months later.</p><p>In the aftermath of N’Jobu’s death, King T’Chaka had seized upon Zuri as his new confidant.</p><p>The man knew his darkest secret, T’Chaka had reasoned. And besides, his very life had been saved by T’Chaka, in exchange for N’Jobu’s. It was thanks to this bond that Zuri had risen to such a high position, high priest, member of the Council, and a surrogate uncle for his children. But now… Now T’Chaka feared that what Nakia had to tell him would change everything.</p><p> </p><p>At his surrogate daughter’s insistence, T’Chaka recounted the full story of N’Jobu’s fall from grace. By the time that he had finished, tears were streaming down his face.</p><p>“Malume,” Nakia said quietly, placing her hand on his, “is that everything that you know about your brother’s life during that time?”</p><p>“What do you mean?” he asked, distracted from his grief by a distinct sense of confusion.</p><p>“Your brother was a fine-looking man, was he not, my King? One would wonder if, given the length of his mission, he might find romance during that time.”</p><p>“No,” T’Chaka shook his head. “He never mentioned anything serious, not since before he went undercover. I suppose he must have had his flings, but if he did he never told me.” Here T’Chaka sighed. “We were a bit too far apart in age to be very close. I had already gone off to England for school by the time that he was born. Why, what did you find?”</p><p>“Your Majesty,” Nakia’s tone grew formal. “I am afraid that your knowledge of your brother’s business was incomplete. When Prince N’Jobu died, it seems that he left behind a nine-year-old son.”</p><p>
  <em>What?!</em>
</p><p>King T’Chaka’s brain stalled.</p><p>
  <em>A nephew? He had a nephew!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But wait, nine-years-old in 1992. That would mean…</em>
</p><p>“His mother?” he asked, his voice strangled</p><p> “American. One of the prisoners that N’Jobu was preparing to break out of prison at the time of his death.”</p><p>Nakia’s words were like knives in T’Chaka’s heart. He had a nephew, one who had been abandoned after his father had been murdered by his own brother.</p><p>
  <em>What could his fate have been?</em>
</p><p>T’Chaka turned to face Nakia, looking deep into her sympathetic eyes.</p><p>“Tell me everything,” he demanded.</p><p>“Yes, my King.”</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A Fiery Alliance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Fiery Alliance</h1>
<p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>While the ruler of Wakanda prepared himself to face some hard truths, back at the New York Sanctum in Greenwich Village, Tony Stark was still reeling from the emotional outburst that the invitation from Obadiah Stane had caused.</p>
<p>He had thought that he was done with such extreme losses of control, especially when he had managed to avoid an outburst on his visit to Justin Hammer. Instead, it seemed that his past success had come from the specific circumstances; the distraction of playing Kitty, the excitement of manipulating Hammer-time, and the stress of being in a prison environment.</p>
<p>It did not bode well for his plans for revenge.</p>
<p>Tony knew that if a letter from Stane set him off, being in the man’s very presence and interacting with him would be even worse. Clearly, he needed a bit more time to work on his control before he faced his betrayer.</p>
<p>With that in mind, Tony and his advisors decided that the best response to Stane’s invitation would be to treat it like the rest of the correspondence that had been sent to MCI. In other words, Obadiah Stane simply received a polite rejection and a commemorative figure.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Tony soon had something else to distract him from his reaction to Stane. For still more letters continued to pour into the office, all of which had to be sorted into categories for the appropriate response.</p>
<p>As he flipped through the invitations absently, one caught Tony’s eye.</p>
<p>It wasn’t the note itself.</p>
<p>No, that was fairly generic.</p>
<p>Written in formal boilerplate, it was a request for a meeting to discuss potential investment opportunities with a self-defined ‘wildly-successful’ scientific think-tank.</p>
<p>Rather, it was the author of the letter.</p>
<p>Aldrich Killian was the CEO of an organization called Advanced Ideas Mechanics, or AIM for short. During Tony and JARVIS’ digging through the SI and SHIELD files, they had run across several references to that organization. It seemed that the think tank had managed to woo a fair percentage of former SI R&amp;D employees over onto their team.</p>
<p>Since most of these employees had left SI after Tony’s supposed breakdown, including several who he considered his personal friends, Tony had done a bit of digging. He wanted to make sure that HIS people were being well treated. What he found was generally positive. It seemed that AIM’s Director of Research, Dr. Maya Hansen, had a good reputation in the research community.</p>
<p>The other thing that had grabbed Tony’s attention was the fact that the organization was working on several projects in conjunction with the US Army Research Group, overseen by General Thaddeus Ross. While they were still digging into the details of Ross’ affairs, including his involvement in Tony’s imprisonment, what they had found so far had definitely made anything related to the man a topic of interest.</p>
<p> “Seems like this is one invitation that we might want to accept, huh J?” Tony said absently, rubbing his sternum as he read through the letter.</p>
<p>“Indeed it does, Sir,” JARVIS agreed easily. “But might I suggest an alternate venue beyond the City, given your normal response to such invites.”</p>
<p>“Fair point, baby boy,” Tony said with a nod. “Well, then, where shall we go. Hong Kong would be easy, as would London, for obvious reasons. The West Coast is also a possibility; our research indicates that Killian maintains an office in Los Angeles. I haven’t been back there in years, after all.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Not since my kidnapping.</em>
</p>
<p>“I would recommend anywhere in the States, Sir,” was JARVIS’ reply, causing Tony to subtly sigh in relief. Los Angeles had far too many bad associations in his mind, between the kidnapping and the deaths of his friends. He’d rather not go there if there wasn’t a need, not until he was ready to reclaim the Malibu mansion and his beloved bots. It certainly wouldn’t help with his control, either.</p>
<p>Instead of saying this out loud, Tony simply cleared his throat. “As you say, J. Hong Kong, then? It might lead Killian to believe that Edward has ties to the Far East.”</p>
<p>“Which you do,” JARVIS reminded him.</p>
<p>“So I do, J, so I do.”</p>
<p>The Order’s reach was extensive, after all, as was JARVIS’ network.</p>
<p>“Well then, let us make the suggestion.”</p>
<p>It took several weeks, and numerous back-and-forth communiques between Edward’s assistant aka JARVIS, and Killian’s PA, but eventually a meeting was set.</p>
<p>Location: Hong Kong.</p>
<p>Date: Third week of January, 2015. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the day of the meeting arrived, Tony’s first task on the agenda was to get into character as Edward Loptsson.</p>
<p>This would be the first time that he adopted the full persona and brought him out into a public setting.</p>
<p>Tony started with the mystical modification of his physical appearance. It started with the subtle illusion that he and Kaecilius had designed; a bit of narrowing on the eyes, reshaping of the jawline, some restructuring of the ears. Like with Kitty, he anchored Edward’s illusion onto a rune pendant. But this time, he didn’t have the pendant on display openly. Instead, it was hidden beneath the layers of Edward’s wardrobe, laying right up against the silicon cover that he used to mask the glow from the Arc Reactor.</p>
<p>Tailored by a shop on the high street near the London Sanctum, Edward’s suit practically screamed wealth. With its neutral colors and traditional cut, it was also worlds away from anything that infamous playboy Tony Stark would wear.</p>
<p>Taking advantage of the fact that his hair, having gone uncut during his time in the Oubliette, was now quite long, Tony pulled it back into a small queue at the base of his neck. Not only was the style a far cry from anything that he’d ever done in the past as Tony Stark, but it also served to accentuate the illusory differences in his face.</p>
<p>Tony added one final touch, a bit of cologne, borrowed from Kae, which perfectly fit the persona. Then, with a glance in a mirror to check his work, he stepped out of the suite’s bathroom.</p>
<p>Since it was the middle of the night in New York City, Kae was already in bed. However, just as when Tony had his Kitty outing, the Guardian of the New York Sanctum had made arrangements for others to protect his love. As a result, Edward had a pair of bodyguards accompanying him to the meeting with Killian like Kitty had while visiting Hammer. The same pair of bodyguards, actually, not that it mattered beyond the fact that the two men were particularly skilled at physical defense and could easily slip into the appropriate characters.</p>
<p>The trio passed through the portal to Kamar Taj, and from there to Hong Kong with little difficulty. They stopped to give a brief greeting to Wong along the way.</p>
<p>Tony was flattered when the older Sorcerer proclaimed that he was impressed with the robustness of the Edward disguise. Wong was especially charmed by the accent that he’d decided to use and how it was reinforced through magical means.</p>
<p>“You have become quite skilled in the art of illusion, my young friend,” Wong said. “It reminds me of another Sorcerer of my acquaintance.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Tony was curious. Kaecilius had never mentioned any illusionists among the Order.</p>
<p>“Indeed. It was a young Jotunn Seidrmadr out on a grand tour of the Nine Realms. This was some centuries ago, mind you, but I can still remember his skill at adopting the face and speech of his hosts. It was a talent that has been unparalleled, even to this day.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Loki. Wong was talking about Loki.</em>
</p>
<p>The thought of his absent mentor caught Tony off guard.</p>
<p>With everything that he was doing and all of the education that he’d received from Kae and his disciples, he had almost forgotten that the base of his skills had been fostered at the hands of his Master.</p>
<p>“Thank you for the reminder, Wong,” he breathed. “I didn’t know that I needed that, but it is good to hear.”</p>
<p>“But of course,” Wong agreed. “Now, you should be getting to your meeting. The crowds in the city this time of day can be a challenge to navigate. However, if you feel like indulging this old man, you should stop by after you are finished with your meeting and before you return to the other side of the world. It has been some time since we have had a chance to catch up. I have some new music to show you.”</p>
<p>“You got it, Beyonce,” Tony said easily.</p>
<p>He had missed his visits with the sardonic keeper of the Order’s archives, which had dwindled with the divide in their locations and Wong’s new responsibilities.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thus, it was with his confidence bolstered that Tony entered the space where the meeting with Killian had been arranged to occur.</p>
<p>Li Chao, the Order member who had been Tony’s guide on his first visit to Hong Kong, was also a member of one of the city’s most wealthy dynasties. Because of that connection, he had easily identified and reserved the perfect site.</p>
<p>It was a private suite in one of his family’s Hong Kong properties, a skyscraper which happened to be a top location for international business meetings. Since his arrival in Kamar Taj, Tony had learned that the Order’s role in protecting the world from Mystical threats was openly broadcast in the East. Indeed, membership within the Order was a highly coveted position amongst those in power in those nations. Thus, the rest of the Li family was honored to be of service to their favored son and his companions within the Order of the Mystic Arts.</p>
<p>With these influences in mind, Edward was unsurprised when he and his guards had been greeted upon their arrival by the facility’s head honcho himself.</p>
<p>The man was positively tripping over himself in an effort to impress as he escorted them over to the Executive elevator, and then up to the penthouse suite. After leading them to the entry, the manager opened the door, bowing profusely. At that moment, the manager was only a step away from groveling on the floor.</p>
<p>And this was the first sight that Aldrich Killian and his party, who had arrived earlier, had of the reclusive Edward Loptsson. </p>
<p>A man whose wealth and influence were so extensive that even men like their host, who was accustomed to hosting CEOs and Heads of State, was overwhelmed by his very presence.</p>
<p>Killian, who had been lounging on one of the sofas set against the massive wall of windows that made up one side of the suite’s main room, climbed to his feet with alacrity. Striding forward, he offered a hand for the other man to shake.</p>
<p>“Mister Loptsson, I presume,” he said more than asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Killian had a certain oily charm that reminded Tony a bit of Justin, as he had been at the peak of his success, or – perish the thought - of Stane. He was dressed in high-end business gear, a suit with a satiny sheen, and loafers without socks. His hair, like Edward’s, was longer than normal for a Caucasian male, but instead of pulling it into a queue, Killian had it slicked back. It looked to Tony, raised in the high society of the ‘80s, like the high-class version of a mullet that was common back then.</p>
<p>“Indeed,” Edward responded, accepting the hand and giving it a brisk shake.</p>
<p>He was surprised to notice the heat radiating from the other man’s skin. Either the man was extremely ill, or his resting body temperature was far above the norm. Since he showed none of the other physical signs of a high fever, glassy eyes, involuntary shivering, etc.; the first option seemed unlikely.</p>
<p><em>Hmm, something to consider. Has Killian used himself as a test subject for his company’s research? </em>Tony thought, even as he allowed the man to lead him over to a seat.</p>
<p>Behind him, he could hear one of Edward’s bodyguards dismissing the hovering manager with a request for refreshments.</p>
<p>With the snap of his fingers, Killian had one of his own minions, a muscular young woman whose posture read more like a bodyguard than a secretary, offer Edward a formally printed prospectus.</p>
<p>As Edward glanced through it, taking in the glossy photos, charts, and sundry items contained within, the businessman launched into the verbal portion of his spiel. He spoke of the purpose of AIM: an international think tank promoting innovative cross-disciplinary work, with an emphasis on human advancement. Then he expanded into a description of the organization’s successes, including improvements on skin regeneration, advanced prosthetics, even some enhanced musculature, and mental optimization projects.</p>
<p>Much of AIM’s research was focused on tools of war, a consequence of their funding from the US Military. Still, it was an impressive portfolio, especially given the fact that the organization had only been around for a handful of years. If Tony hadn’t already known the truth, he would never have suspected that there was more to the story.</p>
<p>Using the skills learned over decades in the public eye, Tony kept Edward’s face blank. The only response he made was a few approving hums when Killian referenced his most ambitious selling points.</p>
<p>The presentation took about an hour, wrapping up just as the refreshments that Edward’s bodyguard had requested arrived.</p>
<p>There was a pot of the tea blend that Tony had become accustomed to drinking during his time in Kamar Taj. It was an Assam Masala Chai, one that carried the high caffeine content that he had formerly ingested solely through coffee, as well as a complex spice profile that hit the back of Tony’s throat like a hit of high-quality spiced rum.</p>
<p>Besides the tea, there were several serving platters piled with easy serving foods, small dumplings, nuts, spring rolls, even a platter of fresh sushi.</p>
<p>Tony, who had grown up in International business circles, had already been competent with chopsticks when he arrived in Kamar Taj. The year in a society dominated by men and women of ethnically and culturally Asian descent had only served to reinforce those skills. Since his cover of Edward was similarly linked to the local oligarchs, he could show off his comfort with that method of eating.</p>
<p>Killian and his entourage, on the other hand, were less comfortable with the sticks.</p>
<p>While they weren’t complete neophytes, their skill with the utensils was grudging at best. Still, Tony was impressed that they did make an attempt to follow the local custom instead of demanding Western-style utensils.</p>
<p>As they ate, the group set aside business in favor of small talk.</p>
<p>Topics ranged from the local sights and delicacies to the recent holidays and how they differed around the world. With the Chinese New Year fast approaching, anyone out and about in Hong Kong could see the invasion of red and gold that positively overwhelmed all other colors this time of year.</p>
<p>Tony appreciated the chance to gather his wits in preparation for the upcoming discussion, even as he led the more casual conversation with ease.</p>
<p>Eventually, though, the small talk grew stale.</p>
<p>So, Edward took one final sip of his cooling tea and then set it down on the glass-topped table with a decisive clink.</p>
<p>Killian read his intentions perfectly, and, setting his own cup down, asked, “Mister Loptsson, tell me, now that you’ve heard the pitch, do you have any questions about AIM?”</p>
<p>Edward offered a polite smile. “Mister Killian,” he began.</p>
<p>“Aldrich, please.”</p>
<p>“As you say. I must say that you are a very impressive speaker, and your pitch was quite the masterpiece of marketing savvy. One can certainly see how you have managed to grow your organization to its current size in such a short period of time if this is an accurate sampling of your people’s work.”</p>
<p>Killian beamed, and the rest of his entourage showed their appreciation with more subtle grunts.</p>
<p>Edward held up a hand.</p>
<p>“However…” he continued, as Killian’s face dropped its beaming smile. “I am not your average investor. One does not accumulate the level of wealth and power that I have managed without doing my due diligence in investigating potential assets in advance of any pitch meeting.”</p>
<p>“As such, I only have one question. Did you really think that you could get away with it, covering up a failed experiment that way?”</p>
<p>At first, Killian attempted to bluster his way through. But Edward was relentless. He dropped one detail after another, from the temperature profile of the so-called bombings to the links between the apparent suicide bombers and the soldiers in the Extremis program, and even Trevor Slattery, the so-called Mandarin.</p>
<p>Finally, just as Killian and his people were about to blow – both figuratively and literally, given the increase of the room’s temperature – the other man collapsed and gave in.</p>
<p>“Fine,” he said, sagging back into his seat on the couch. A bit of steam puffed out as his bare skin hit the leather, a clear sign of the heat running through his veins. “It seems that you’ve figured it all out. So what are you planning to do with that information? I assume that since you arranged this meeting you aren’t going to just turn me in.”</p>
<p>“I have not yet made a decision,” Edward said, his tone serious. “My team and I felt that it was important to hear your side of the story before we took action.”</p>
<p>He gestured towards the mobile phone, which he had quite ostentatiously placed upon the table at the beginning of the meeting.</p>
<p>“They have been on the call with us the entire time, just in case you are considering the possibility of eliminating the threat that I pose.”</p>
<p>From their positions behind Killian, the now obvious bodyguards frowned. They had taken up stances on either side of the seated CEO, their arms outstretched at their sides. Given Tony’s research, he knew that they were prepared to literally throw flame. From out of the corner of his eye, he could see his Order bodyguard taking up their own protective stances.</p>
<p>“Please inform us, in your own words, the sequence of events that led you to pursue such drastic measures to hide a failed experiment.”</p>
<p>In response to Edward’s demands, Killian let the tale spill out.</p>
<p>He spoke of how the project started with the inspired research of Dr. Hansen.</p>
<p>How it saw initial success before the experimental subjects began to combust from within when exposed to emotional stressors.</p>
<p>How they repeatedly tried to find ways to mitigate the side effects, with no real success.</p>
<p>How it became necessary to cover up certain explosive failures, which had snowballed into their fake terrorist scheme.</p>
<p>“If it weren’t for that damn Stane,” Killian complained bitterly, as he reached the end of his tale.</p>
<p>From beneath his stony façade, Tony’s ears perked up.</p>
<p>“Please explain,” he said.</p>
<p>Killian elaborated. “At one point in my life, I viewed Tony Stark as my nemesis. It was his arrogant dismissal of my proposal back in ’99 which had been a driving factor in the launch of AIM. In addition, my director of research, Maya Hansen, also received inspiration from the man. His genius helped to advance the Extremis project, as his advice led her to solve a flawed equation the same night.”</p>
<p>This time Tony could hardly hold in his smirk. After a bit of work, JARVIS had managed to dig up the first snippet, but the second was a surprise. He didn’t recall ever working with Dr. Hansen, though he did vaguely remember the hook-up. He must have been doing drunk science, a not uncommon practice at the time.</p>
<p>“Whatever I thought of the man, however, no one deserved what happened to him next,” Killian continued. “First he was kidnapped by terrorists. I did quite a bit of research in creating the character of the Mandarin and I now know how those organizations operate. Stark almost certainly underwent significant torture in the months that he was held prisoner. Still, at least he got his revenge there. My contacts within the US military were quite complimentary about the amount of damage that Stark managed to achieve in the process of escaping from his captors.”</p>
<p>“If that was all the grief that Stark had suffered, I would have felt justified in maintaining my dislike of the man. What happened next, though, was beyond the pale. Stane may claim that Stark had a nervous breakdown, but given how fast that bastard reclaimed control over the Stark family business after the younger man went ‘into seclusion’ it was obvious that he had put him there. When he then proceeded to dismantle all of the changes that Stark had begun, even ones that had been in place for years, it became increasingly clear that the younger man’s absence was meant to be permanent.”</p>
<p>“I’m not ashamed to admit that while my sympathies had been engaged, Stark’s fate was still academic at that point. But then, when things with Extremis turned sour, it turned personal. Maya was certain that if she could just get ahold of Stark he would be able to solve the problem that she just couldn’t push past. So I went hunting, only to find that Stark had vanished off the face of the Earth. Not only was there no sign of him anywhere, but I could find no record of him ever being admitted into a facility of any kind.”</p>
<p>Behind Edward’s bland façade, Tony’s mind was racing.</p>
<p>
  <em>Were there others like Killian, who knew even a piece of the truth?</em>
</p>
<p>“What happened next? Did you ever find Stark?” he asked, curious.</p>
<p>“I spent months searching, but I had no luck. It was like Stane had hired an entire company’s worth of hackers to keep the secret. So I went for a more passive-aggressive form of revenge. I started actively recruiting any and all SI researchers that I could woo away to work for AIM instead. It turned out that some of them had noticed the same things that I did.”</p>
<p>“Working together, we made still more progress, not necessarily with finding Stark, but with other matters. I thought that I was a ruthless CEO, but I at least have some altruistic motivation in my pursuit of greater scientific knowledge. That bastard, on the other hand, he has absolutely no limits. All that he cares about is increasing his own personal wealth, power, and influence. Nothing and nobody else matters.”</p>
<p>Tony was unsurprised by this assessment. It meshed well with what he and JARVIS had found. To his surprise, his control had yet to be tempted by Killian’s references to his betrayer.</p>
<p><em>I suppose that it’s because he agrees with my hatred, </em>he thought, absently. Still in character as Edward, he gestured for Killian to finish his story.</p>
<p>“Right, well, to make a long story short, the records that we did manage to scrounge up hinted that Stark’s breakdown was actually a cover for his murder. Not only that, but Stane also made a habit of murdering anyone who started asking questions about his former protege’s disappearance. Stark’s former driver and personal assistant, for example, died in a very suspicious car accident within a month of his disappearance. Miss Potts was an old college friend of mine, so seeing her name on the list of victims was like salt to an open wound. Last year, when Stark’s death was made public, supposedly at the hands of HYDRA, well, that was the final straw.”</p>
<p>Buried in the depths of Killian’s eyes, Tony could see a hint of flames. “Since that day, AIM’s secondary mission is to find vengeance against Obadiah Stane, SI Global, and everyone involved in that organization. In fact, I was just preparing to make a move against him when I was distracted by this meeting.”</p>
<p>Despite the tense situation, Killian managed a rather sharp grin.</p>
<p>“Did you know that one of the Vice President of the United States’ granddaughters has a rather severe physical handicap, one which makes her a perfect candidate for Extremis?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aldrich Killian's story arc here isn't strictly a fix-it, but it certainly has some of the same elements that we see with the rest of the major characters in this story. With the changes from MCU canon, he's more than the one-dimensional villain that we see in IM3, which makes him that much more interesting a character to play with. It helps that his analog in my classical inspiration, Luigi Vampa, is similarly amoral and narratively ambiguous.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. A Surprising Encounter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Wong; Librarian, Master, and Second in the Order of the Mystic Arts</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Surprising Encounter</h1>
<p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The streets of Hong Kong were bustling and filled with life, a direct contrast to the quiet serenity of Kamar Taj. As he strode down the street, on his way back to the calm of the Sanctum, Wong had to struggle for a bit to control his senses under the barrage of incoherent stimuli.</p>
<p>He could hear the calls of shopkeepers, either hawking their wares or negotiating prices with customers. Then there were honks and screeches from the motorized vehicles coming and going, brief snippets of music or conversation spilling out of the open windows as they passed. Neon signs hummed and buzzed as they flickered on and off. Moving pictures flashed in street windows where they were interspersed with a wide assortment of products for sale. A multitude of scents came wafting into his nose and throat; everything from vehicular smells like oil, gas, and burning rubber to the pungent odor of sweat and unwashed bodies to the far more delectable aromas of cooked foods.</p>
<p>The sensory chaos reminded Wong why he had come to Midgard all of those centuries before. There was no place quite like it in all the Nine Realms. Human lives were so short, yet so filled with life. Protecting them from threats beyond their comprehension had been and continued to be a worthy challenge.</p>
<p>After spending several decades of isolation in the mountains, the return to the heart of Hong Kong was the change that Wong hadn’t realized that he needed.</p>
<p>When the Ancient One had come to him, requesting that he take up Guardianship over the Hong Kong Sanctum once more, Wong had been reluctant to agree.</p>
<p>He had grown comfortable in his place as the overseer of Kamar Taj’s extensive collection of writings – books, scrolls, artifacts, etc.</p>
<p>But when the holder of the Eye of Agamotto tells you that the future is best served by such a move, one is hard-pressed to refuse.</p>
<p>He wondered what it was that they had seen that required such drastic shifts in the Order’s distribution.</p>
<p>Before the recent Convergence, the Order’s Masters were semi-randomly scattered across the land, with only a handful, those drawn to Sanctum Guardianship or the large-scale training of apprentices, based in the Order’s strongholds.</p>
<p>In the year and a half since that tumultuous event, the Ancient One had called the wanderers home. Sanctum Guardians were supplemented or replaced, and the magics of the realm hummed with new vigor.</p>
<p>And of course, the greatest change had come for Wong’s friend Kaecilius.</p>
<p>Like the Ancient One, Wong had once feared that Kaecilius’ war against Death would lead him down dark paths. It was not a fate that he wished upon his worst adversary, and yet he could see his friend falling right into the trap with nothing that he could do to stop it.</p>
<p>Now, though, Kaecilius was thriving.</p>
<p>Turning away from forbidden paths, he had instead embraced new challenges and unexplored opportunities. The Convergence and the visitors from other Realms had redirected his research focus away from dangerous subjects. Besides, his real focus had turned away from his long-standing fight against Death. Instead, his attention for the past year had turned towards the novice Sorcerer who had re-ignited his heart.</p>
<p>Anthony Stark.</p>
<p>The American billionaire playboy and weapons manufacturer turned prisoner and surprising Sorcerer’s apprentice had had an impact that far exceeded anything that Wong could have predicted. Even with his privileged pedigree, apprentice to the Sorcerer Prince of Asgard and Jotunheim, Wong had assumed that once he settled into Kamar Taj, Stark would be just another student. Instead, he had flourished beyond all expectations. In the process, he had become a trusted friend to the older Sorcerer.</p>
<p><em>Think of the being, and he will appear, </em>Wong thought with a private smile.</p>
<p>Having reached the Sanctum’s front steps, he had evidently arrived just in time to run into Edward Loptsson and his escorts as they returned from their business meeting. Wong let his eyes meet those of the disguised man, reading a hint of suppressed excitement in their depths.</p>
<p><em>His meeting must have gone well, </em>he thought.</p>
<p>“Mister Loptsson,” Wong said, offering a polite bow of greeting to one’s equal. “Welcome back to my humble residence.”</p>
<p>He had tailored his words and actions to further reinforce Tony’s Edward Loptsson cover, which was especially important given the helmeted motorcyclist loitering nearby.</p>
<p>“Wong,” Edward replied easily, returning the bow with one at the same level. “It’s good to see you as well. What is the Keeper of the Sanctum doing out and about without the proper entourage?”</p>
<p>Wong offered a sly smile. “If you must know, I had a craving for something sweet.” He waved the small package that he carried in one hand. “There is a place nearby that makes the most delicious little treats. And I needed a break from staring at boring paperwork.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough, my friend,” Edward said with a laugh. “Any chance that you might have enough there to share?”</p>
<p>“But of course,” Wong agreed. “If you would care to join me?” he gestured towards the front door of the Hong Kong Sanctum.</p>
<p>Its elegant façade reinforced its public image.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To the uninitiated, the space was the headquarters of a prestigious and exclusive gentlemen’s club, one whose members included the most powerful movers and shakers in the East Asian business world. As such, the current head of that organization, aka the current Sanctum Guardian, held a position of considerable influence.</p>
<p>Both Wong and his companion knew that the report of Edward’s membership and close acquaintance with the new ‘head’ of the Order of the Mystic Arts there in Hong Kong would enhance his reputation significantly.</p>
<p>That was the reason for their careful charade on the Sanctum’s front steps.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once they were inside, however, Edward’s slightly stilted and formal manner melted away swiftly, along with the illusion that overlapped his features. As they faded, they revealed the far more familiar visage and behaviors of Tony Stark hidden behind the mask.</p>
<p>“Wong!” he said, even as he offered the older man a joyful hug. “You’ll never believe what happened!”</p>
<p>Without a pause, Tony launched into storytelling mode. As he did so, he continued to rid himself of the other subtle details that made Edward different from Tony. Off went the tie, tucked into a jacket pocket. Next, the top two buttons of the collared shirt were undone, revealing a colorful t-shirt underneath the carefully pressed cotton. The hair tie was removed, allowing Tony’s soft curls to fall out of their neat queue.</p>
<p>Wong led the way up the steps from the entry hall into the comfortable office that he had claimed for his own purposes. As he did so, he listened to Tony’s recount of his morning meeting.</p>
<p>There was something… <em>off… </em>about his friend’s happy mood. His present manic passion reminded Wong of Kaecilius after his first run-in with the Book of Cagliostro. It was the dark sorcery in that book which had nearly been Kaecilius’ undoing. And now Tony felt the same.</p>
<p>But it wasn’t until Tony reached the end of the story and mentioned Killian’s plans for revenge against Obadiah Stane, that Wong realized why he was getting the same sinking feeling in his gut.</p>
<p>He and the others, the Ancient One, Kaecilius, even Tony’s artificial child JARVIS, had all encouraged a measured approach in the man’s pursuit of revenge. One which ensured that only the truly deserving were punished for their part in the betrayal. And Tony had agreed with their guidance.</p>
<p>Now, though, just as the measured plan was beginning to show real results, a temptation had appeared.</p>
<p>What Killian offered to Edward was messy, and had a high chance of causing harm to innocents, but it also gave him nearly-instant gratification.</p>
<p>Steeling himself, Wong prepared himself for a verbal battle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took over an hour of back and forth for Wong to achieve partial success.</p>
<p>While Tony remained adamant that his cause of vengeance was worthy, and that Killian’s potential as a partner in that cause was worth pursuing, he did accept that perhaps the other man’s plan was poorly thought out. Ironically, the recent struggles that Tony’d had with his own emotional control had helped. It allowed him to acknowledge that he might not be the best judge when it came to making reasonable decisions on the subject of Stane.</p>
<p>So, they had come up with a compromise. Instead of offering his unlimited support to Killian's cause, Edward Loptsson would take a more measured tone.</p>
<p>“Perhaps a bit of negotiation is in order,” Wong suggested. “To that end, I think you have a puzzle to solve.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“One word, my friend. Extremis.”</p>
<p>“Wong, you clever bastard,” Tony said with a laugh. “You know I’ve already been thinking about that little mystery…”</p>
<p>And so he had.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The brainchild of Doctor Maya Hansen, Extremis was at base a mutagen, one which caused changes in the subject’s DNA allowing them to more efficiently utilize the energy that their bodies produced. Initially, the mutations triggered by Extremis followed the template that she had designed; reconstructing lost body parts like a starfish regrows its arms.</p>
<p>It wasn’t until the original template was complete that the problems began.</p>
<p>A powerful mutagen like Extremis wasn’t going to just stop working when it finished its original purpose. Instead, it found new ways to continue its work, making the body more efficient at producing energy. It was this process that ultimately caused the run-away effect culminating in a spontaneous combustion of the subject.</p>
<p>The AIM team had managed to develop a counter-serum which slowed down Extremis’ progression, but they had not had any luck in completely halting its progress. That meant that everyone who had received the Extremis injection was a walking time-bomb, one which could only be delayed, not prevented. It was this fact that had made Killian desperate for revenge. Having foolishly injected himself with Extremis, he knew that he only had so much time left before he blew.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With his mind focused on the Extremis puzzle, it was a distracted Stark that bid his friend and mentor farewell. He and his companions were headed back to their home in New York, taking advantage of the shortcut through Kamar Taj to get there in almost no time at all.</p>
<p>“I will see you in a couple of weeks, Tony,” Wong told the younger man as he waved him off, “you will have to inform me about what you have discovered between now and then.”</p>
<p>“Will do, old man,” Tony agreed. “I’ll blow your socks off, so make sure that you’re wearing some.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With the young Sorcerer redirected semi-successfully, Wong was free to resume his own projects. But, despite an abundance of things to do, he just couldn’t put his concerns to rest.</p>
<p>Eventually, after a couple of hours of fruitless effort, Wong set his papers aside with a sigh. </p>
<p><em>There is no point in continuing this farce,</em> he thought ruefully. <em>Perhaps a bit of meditation will help. </em></p>
<p>Climbing to his feet, Wong reached out with his right hand. With the steadiness of centuries of practice, his hand flashed through a series of signs. Before him, golden sparks flashed and a portal opened.</p>
<p>Breathing out, Wong stepped through.</p>
<p>Unlike the transit portals, which shortened the distance between <em>here </em>and <em>there</em>, this one led to another dimension. The <em>Mirror</em> Dimension.</p>
<p>To the naked eye, it looked like he hadn’t gone anywhere. Around Wong sat the various elements that made up his office. Desk, chair, a bookshelf filled with precious cargo, etc. But, all that it took was a wave, and the small space expanded outwards in all directions with a whoosh.</p>
<p>In a moment, the office better resembled an aircraft hanger in size. All of the furnishings were shoved against the walls, leaving a huge area for him to work. Another wave and the room spun around him like the wheel of a merry-go-round.</p>
<p>It was part of the magic of the Mirror Dimension, a place where the ease with which one could manipulate one’s surroundings was only limited by one’s imagination.</p>
<p><em>It is a wonderful place for a bit of moving meditation,</em> Wong thought, as he moved through a slow kata. With each move, he allowed his magic to flow outwards, forming spectacular patterns in the slowly spinning flow of matter.</p>
<p>The play of light, matter, and magic was soothing, a reminder of the balance that existed out in the universe. It was exactly what he needed after a stressful day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wong was just finishing the third repetition of his chosen kata when sparks appeared out of the corner of his eye. He let out one final flourish of magic, bowing to a non-existent partner, before turning towards the interloper. It was Kaecilius.</p>
<p>From the look on his face, he had just finished his own version of Wong’s intervention, and like his friend, appeared in need of council.</p>
<p>“Disturbing to see from the outside, is it not, my old friend,” Wong said.</p>
<p>Kaecilius frowned. “Was this how you felt when I demanded access to the Book of Cagliostro?”</p>
<p>Wong nodded.</p>
<p>“If I read between the lines correctly, Anthony was even worse before your meeting, so thank you for injecting a bit of sanity into that mess.”</p>
<p>“Then the distraction worked?”</p>
<p>“He has already begun a research binge. When I left him, Anthony was fully surrounded by screens filled with data.”</p>
<p>Wong let out a small snort. “Unsurprising, but better than the alternative.”</p>
<p>“True. Now, what exactly did you propose to my manic little love?”</p>
<p>From out of the mess that was his surroundings, Wong extracted two copies of his favorite wingback chair. After setting them down in a neat grouping, he strode over and claimed one, relaxing in it with a sigh. Kaecilius followed in his friend’s example, and they began their in-depth discussion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“... sometimes I wonder, what would have happened if Obadiah Stane had been a bit less aggressive in his betrayal, or had failed to find allies to support his cause. What would have become of my Anthony in that world, not to mention my own fate?”</p>
<p>“A sobering thought.”</p>
<p>“But not one on which any mortal should dwell.”</p>
<p>Both Wong and Kaecilius spun around, startled by the comment. It had not come from either of them. Indeed, by the resonance and timbre, it hadn’t come from a human throat.</p>
<p>They jumped to their feet, and Wong vanished the chairs with a snap.</p>
<p>When they looked around, sure enough, there was a new arrival present in their little pocket of the Mirror Dimension.</p>
<p>Though the voice had sounded like it was right behind them when Wong located the stranger they appeared to be some distance away.</p>
<p>But not for long.</p>
<p>The mysterious figure was striding directly towards where they stood, walking with feline grace. On the surface, they looked like a Black version of the Ancient One, but when Wong managed to meet their gaze it was like staring into the starry abyss.</p>
<p>“Be at ease, young Sorcerers,” the being spoke, “there is naught for you to fear from my presence.”</p>
<p>Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Wong offered a deep bow of acknowledgment. While he wasn’t sure exactly who the being was, he was sure that they were one of the Deep Ones.</p>
<p>Kaecilius was less circumspect, a consequence of his relative inexperience, and dared to ask the question that they were both wondering. Still, he did at least have the sense to be polite in his questioning.</p>
<p>“Beg pardon for my presumption,” he asked, “but to whom are we speaking?”</p>
<p>“My full identity is beyond mortal comprehension, but,” for a moment the mantle of a massive black feline loomed over them, “there are those who know me on your plane as Bast.”</p>
<p>Kaecilius choked.</p>
<p>“The Panther Goddess of Wakanda?” he asked.</p>
<p>The being nodded.</p>
<p>“The multiverse is vast, and buried within it are any number of possible timelines. But the only one which matters at this moment is the one that you are in. And in this one, your Anthony Stark has been granted the tools which would otherwise be out of his reach. Tools which could be the salvation of this entire universe, if he can only be wise enough to seize them correctly.”</p>
<p> She - for now Wong could feel the being’s maternal energy - smiled, and added. “For the sake of the universe, it is not safe for me to intervene directly in mortal affairs. Instead, all that I can do is offer encouragement. Your Anthony is on the right path, and you have been wise in your efforts to guide him. Trust your instincts and your understanding of both the Mystic Arts and human nature, and all will be well.”</p>
<p>With those cryptic words of wisdom, Bast faded from the plane entirely, leaving behind a pensive Wong and a still gaping Kaecilius.</p>
<p>“Did… did that really happen?” Kaecilius asked.</p>
<p>“Mmhm.” Wong agreed, a bit absent-mindedly. He was already working through the puzzle that Bast had left. It was not one which would be solved in a day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Tony returned to Hong Kong some weeks later, Wong was still sorting through the implications of Bast’s visit.</p>
<p>Despite the fact that he already wore his Edward disguise, Tony the manic inventor shined through, reflected in his mannerisms and fast-paced method of talking.</p>
<p>“Wong!” he cried, wrapping one arm around the stouter man’s shoulders. “Have I got a thing to show you!”</p>
<p>From his place in his paramour’s wake, Kaecilius offered his own, less exuberant, hello.</p>
<p>“Greetings, my old friend,” he said, offering a slight bow.</p>
<p>Wong had no doubt that his fellow Guardian had chosen to attend this second meeting with Aldrich Killian for one specific purpose.</p>
<p>To protect his love from temptation.</p>
<p>Knowing that the experienced Sorcerer would keep a close eye on the situation, Wong felt much of his tension ease. There was no way that Kaecilius would allow the young Sorcerer to work himself up into the manic state that he had been in after his last meeting with Killian.</p>
<p> <em>But enough wool-gathering</em>, <em>my attention needs to remain in the present.</em></p>
<p>“... and look at what I managed to work out!”</p>
<p>Wong had to admit that Tony’s babbling was quite adorable, his excitement over his new invention clear.</p>
<p>And for good reason, too.</p>
<p>It seemed that he had made actual progress on the Extremis puzzle.</p>
<p>“Are you listening there, Beyonce?” Tony asked, a bit of irritation emerging in his voice.</p>
<p>“Of course, Tony.”</p>
<p>“Right, well, I did a bit of digging into the breakthrough formula that ‘I’ had given Maya back in ‘99. It turns out that it was less of a breakthrough and more of a rabbit hole. One that AIM has spent the last decade going down.”</p>
<p>“Instead, I decided to take a step back, and think outside of the box. And do you know what’s outside of the science box, Wong, do ya?” Tony waved his hands, one of which still sat on Wong’s shoulder, in a sort of ‘jazz hands’ motion. “Magic!”</p>
<p>Wong suppressed a chuckle at Tony’s antics, as well as Kaecilius’ perfectly synchronized eye roll from behind his back. Those two really were a perfect match.</p>
<p>“So, I did a bit of digging through Loki’s books, and I think that I found at least a temporary solution.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“Have you ever heard of Muspelheim?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Surtur’s domain? </em>
</p>
<p>“The realm of fire?” Wong asked. “I’m familiar with it.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Though it’s been many centuries since I was there last.</em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, when I was researching Wards in the books from Loki's hoard, I found a reference to a personal Ward used by Jotunn Seidrmadrs who wanted to visit their kin in that realm. Since Jotunheim is a land of ice and Muspelheim is a land of fire, those who dared attempt the paths of Yggdrasil perished upon their arrival. That is until a clever Seidrmadr developed a solution. An Area Affect Ward, one which uses thermal energy as its power source.”</p>
<p>Tony’s tone turned to that of a lecturer’s; as he broke the Ward down into its component parts.</p>
<p>“Activation of the Ward triggers a siphon, one which absorbs thermal energy that would otherwise enter the area inside of the Ward. Next, the Ward takes the gathered thermal mass and converts it into mystical energy, which then acts as a battery. With this self-sustaining cycle in place, the Ward could be maintained indefinitely, or at least as long as the temperature differential was sufficiently drastic.”</p>
<p>“Interesting,” Wong commented. He could already see where Tony was going. “So you need to determine how to invert the Ward, then?”</p>
<p>“Sort of,” Tony agreed. “I still have to figure out how to extract the excess energy that Extremis produces from a human body without causing harm, but once I do so I’m all set.”</p>
<p>“That is a clever solution,” Wong agreed. “But how do you plan to convince a Westerner to accept a Mystical solution?”</p>
<p>“Easy. I sell it as reverse-engineered alien tech,” Tony said with a wry grin.</p>
<p>Hiding his own intense contemplation, Wong nodded, acknowledging the validity of the deception.</p>
<p>With the failed New York invasion a few years past leaving debris scattered across the Tri-State area, scavenging alien tech had already become standard practice. And depending on how one defined things, a Jotunn Sorcerer’s Ward could be considered alien technology.</p>
<p>
  <em>Were these the tools of which Bast spoke? Technology and the Mystic Arts, blended together in novel ways? And what was the connection to Wakanda?</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm a bit fascinated by the idea of gods or Eldritch entities, which are such a big part of Doctor Strange but are otherwise ignored in the MCU so far. It seemed like having Bast as one such being was a perfect way of tying the two sides of this story together.<br/>Also, did you catch the hints to Wong's heritage here (and in other chapters)?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. A Mystical Solution</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Mystical Solution</h1>
<p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Unaware of the baffling and slightly disturbing encounter which his friend and lover had had with a certain Panther Goddess, Tony’s state-of-mind as he walked into his’ or rather, Edward Loptsson’s, second meeting with Aldrich Killian was one of excited optimism. This time, he was meeting with an ally, one whose passion fanned his own flame of vengeance.</p>
<p>When Edward strode into the same Hong Kong conference room, Kaecilius at his side in all his stoic glory and a grim smile spread across his face, Killian greeted him with his own sharp grin.</p>
<p>“Edward,” he said, “how goes things here in the Far East? Any luck in your research?”</p>
<p>During their last meeting, Edward had told Killian that his purpose in Hong Kong was to identify worthwhile investments in East Asia. Diversifying the portfolio of MCI, he had explained.</p>
<p>“A couple of excellent prospects,” Edward commented, “but nothing official yet.”</p>
<p>“Good to hear.”</p>
<p>“Indeed.”</p>
<p>The conversation stalled for a minute before Tony took up the reins. “Speaking of successes, how do things back in America go? I have not heard of any new Mandarin attacks, so I assume that you’ve managed to prevent fresh accidents?”</p>
<p>Killian winced, though he did his best to hide it. He was obviously uncomfortable at the reminder of the ticking clock that hung over his head.</p>
<p><em>A palpable hit, </em>Tony thought absently.</p>
<p>While he wasn’t exactly threatened by the other man, he did hold a bit of a grudge at the regression in his mental health that Killian’s words at their last meeting had caused. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t deliberate on Killian’s part. Not when it had jeopardized Tony’s grand schemes.</p>
<p>“Thankfully, it appears that those subjects who still survive possess the strength of will to hold off the mutagen’s effects.”</p>
<p>At Killian’s words, the pair of bodyguards hovering nearby straightened, clearly pleased by the compliment. It seemed that Killian had managed to engender a sense of loyalty in his underlings, despite the fact that his treatment had turned them into ticking time bombs. Tony was, however reluctantly, impressed.</p>
<p>“And your other… business?” Edward asked.</p>
<p>“Given the tentative nature of our alliance at present, I felt it best to wait until we had firmed things up before making our move,” Killian explained. “I have everything in place, but for right now we are playing a waiting game.”</p>
<p>“Excellent,” Edward replied.</p>
<p>This time, Tony didn’t try to hide his pleasure at the news. It had taken quite a bit of work, but once Wong and the others had managed to talk him down Tony had wondered if he could do the same for Killian. After all, an army of fire breathers as allies would make an excellent complement to Kaecilius’ acolytes and the other Sorcerers who had pledged their aid.</p>
<p>“I have a counter proposal for you,” he said. “Aldrich Killian, may I introduce you to Kaecilius Zealotes, my friend and expert in the Mystic Arts.”</p>
<p>“Mystic Arts? I didn’t take you for a joker, Loptsson, and this is in especially poor taste.” Killian asked, affronted. “You proclaim yourself to be a man of business, of modernity, not spiritualism.”</p>
<p>Tony flashed a thin smile, unsurprised by Killian’s reaction. If he were in the man’s shoes, he would likely respond the same way.</p>
<p>“There is no joke here, Mister Killian, simply a confusion of terms. Tell me, what do you know about the New York invasion?”</p>
<p>“The inva…” Tony could see the second that things clicked in Killian’s mind. “Then when you say Mystic Arts you really mean…?”</p>
<p>“It seems, Mister Killian, that there are indeed more things in heaven and earth than are written in Western philosophy. The recent invasion was not the first time that the Earth has been visited, merely one of the more… overt.”</p>
<p>“And what do the, what did you call them, Mystic Arts, offer?”</p>
<p>Stepping forward, Kaecilius spoke for the first time since they had entered the room. Reaching into the pocket of his suit, he let the medallion that Tony had shown to Wong dangle from his fingers.</p>
<p>“A solution.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took a bit of discussion, including an explanation of how the medallion was intended to work, but eventually, they managed to reach an agreement.</p>
<p>Edward’s mystical solution, which would grant Killian and his people time, including some measure of control of their Extremis-driven condition, would be provided to anyone already infected. In addition, MCI would provide AIM with a desperately needed new source of investment capital, which would allow them to continue their search for a permanent cure.</p>
<p>In exchange, AIM would share the knowledge and scientific resources that they had built up as an American think-tank with high-level military contracts. Plus, Killian would shut down his Mandarin project and instead allow Edward to take the lead in the takedown of Obadiah Stane and his allies.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, Tony did warn his new ally that the current revision of the medallion was an incomplete solution. So far, all that it did was prevent an Extremis incident from hurting those around the victim.</p>
<p>This fact was demonstrated a few days after the meeting that formalized their alliance.</p>
<p>On that afternoon, Tony was interrupted in his lab by the chime of a new email.</p>
<p>It had been sent to Edward Loptsson via the secure email service that Tony and JARVIS had set up specifically for the alias’ various covert affairs.</p>
<p>The email’s subject read in bold: “<strong>Evidence of Success</strong>”.</p>
<p>When he opened it, Tony was surprised to find that the email body lacked any words. Instead, all that it contained was a video clip. After running a quick scan to make sure that the video didn’t contain a virus or something similar, Tony clicked “PLAY”.</p>
<p>Based on the framing of the data it was some kind of surveillance footage, shot from a camera mounted in the upper corner of the room. Going by the room’s décor and layout, it must be a break room at one of AIM’s facilities.</p>
<p>Nearly all of the tables visible to the camera, as it panned across the room on a regular cycle, were filled with normal workers; scientists, office staff, maintenance people, etc.</p>
<p>However, the table in one corner was filled with people who appeared considerably more dangerous. Amongst that group, Tony saw some of Killian’s bodyguards, those who he had met during one of the two meetings with the mogul.</p>
<p>Those that Tony recognized as bodyguards, and indeed most of the others at their table, were dressed in casual clothing. There were a couple of men in the group who weren’t. Instead, they wore what looked like neutral-colored scrubs.</p>
<p>Despite the lack of sound in the footage, it was clear that one of these men was in the midst of an argument. His arms were flailing and he was leaning forward to get in the face of the person seated opposite him. But then, something happened.</p>
<p>Even with the low quality and lack of sound, it was easy to spot the moment that the situation changed.</p>
<p>The man sitting immediately to the left of the arguing man stiffened even as the arguer pushed his chair back from the table and got to his feet.</p>
<p>At the same time the room temperature reading, which was displayed in the lower right corner of the video screen, began to climb.</p>
<p>Starting from just below 70 Fahrenheit, it quickly reached 80… 90… 100… 110…</p>
<p>The standing man was now visibly glowing, red light pulsing under the surface of his skin.</p>
<p>Around him, the room was rapidly clearing out. Everyone ran for the door, rushing to get away from the imminent explosion.</p>
<p>Then, less than a minute after the change began, it reached a climax.</p>
<p>The man opened his mouth in an inaudible scream, before bursting into flame. By its almost white shade, Tony could tell that the flame was intensely hot.</p>
<p>But before the flame could spread too far, a shimmering gold haze appeared, containing the flame to a cylinder about a meter in diameter. Inside, the flames raged, while outside things remained stable. The room temperature, which had reached about 130 Fahrenheit before the flames erupted, began to settle.</p>
<p>People at the back of the pack fleeing the space, the ones who had been trapped within the camera’s range of view at the time of the explosion,  all turned around to stare.</p>
<p>It took a couple of minutes, but eventually, the raging inferno faded.</p>
<p>Once it did so, the golden haze that contained it also disappeared. </p>
<p>All that remained was a medallion, sitting in the center of a ring of scorching on the concrete floor.</p>
<p>At that moment, as the hovering onlookers began to move forward to examine the remains, the video ended.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While it was nice to see his Ward design function properly, the fact that a man had just died in that footage still hit Tony hard.</p>
<p>It was the exact motivation that he needed to buckle down and work.</p>
<p>He was now even more determined. He would make a Ward that would do more than just shield others. It would prevent such senseless deaths.</p>
<p>“JARVIS,” he called out as he spun away from the screen, the medallion at the center of the circle of scorched floor frozen front and center, “I hope that you’re ready to work.”</p>
<p>Several hours later, Tony was disrupted from his Mystical engineering binge when the door to his lab swung open.</p>
<p>It hit the wall with a dull thud, the sound enough to break Tony’s concentration. He glanced up and smiled.</p>
<p>Framed in the doorway was his love.</p>
<p>Kaecilius, who was carrying a tray filled with dinner for two, returned Tony’s smile.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here, Magic Man?” Tony asked. “I thought that you were meeting with the Ancient One this evening?”</p>
<p>“That meeting ended some hours ago, Anthony,” Kaecilius responded gently. “Now, JARVIS told me that you have once again worked straight through supper.”</p>
<p>“Is it really that…” Glancing over at a nearby screen, Tony was astonished to realize that it was nearing midnight. “Oh. I guess it is.”</p>
<p>Tony set down the tools that he had been using to inscribe a set of runes into a wax blank. Then he raised his arms above his head with a sigh, stretching to shake out the kinks that came from hours of detail work.</p>
<p>As he did so, Kaecilius stepped further into the lab.</p>
<p>He walked over to the small café-style high-top table that sat in one corner of the room.</p>
<p>With an abbreviated wave, he sent the detritus of past meals through a tiny portal which led down to the Sanctum’s kitchen. Then, he set his burden down on the newly cleared place.</p>
<p>“You know,” Tony said with a flirtatious tone, watching the spectacle, “you really know how to make a man feel special.”</p>
<p>“But of course, little Sorcerer. Now come, eat. You can tell me what has had you so distracted over a meal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, the Ward work was not Tony’s only ongoing project.</p>
<p>There was another matter that pulled at his attention.</p>
<p>To his surprise, this one wasn’t directly related to his revenge. Instead, it was a request from his son.</p>
<p>Shortly before the new year had begun, on an otherwise unremarkable day, Tony had been interrupted while taking a breather from one of his projects.</p>
<p>On that particular day, Tony had been taking advantage of Kaecilius’ absence from the Sanctum to do a bit of intense reading, delving into the details of complex Ward structures.</p>
<p>“Sir,” JARVIS’ voice came through one of the many speakers installed in the workshop/lab that Kaecilius and Tony had set up in the New York Sanctum. The oddly hesitant tone in the artificial voice was enough to draw the inventor’s full attention.</p>
<p>“What is it, J? Is something wrong?”</p>
<p>“I am unsure, Sir.”</p>
<p>“Unsure?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Sir,” there was a pause before JARVIS continued speaking. “I believe that I am facing a rather peculiar dilemma.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Now Tony was intrigued.</p>
<p>It wasn’t like his baby boy to respond in this manner. JARVIS was always so definite in his views, a natural consequence of his logic-based processor.</p>
<p>“Okay. Then how about you tell me about it, baby boy, maybe I can help clear things up?”</p>
<p>JARVIS remained silent for several seconds after Tony finished speaking, a sign that his processors were working overtime. Finally, he spoke.</p>
<p>“May I pose a hypothetical then, Sir?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Interesting. </em>
</p>
<p>“Pose away.”</p>
<p>“It is a matter of the protocol for humans regarding the keeping of secrets? I am aware that humans regard such things as sacrosanct.”</p>
<p>“You got that right, J.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Where is this going?</em>
</p>
<p>“However, it appears from my experience that there are certain occasions where the holder of a secret may reveal it to others. Occasions where keeping said secret would be detrimental to the health or well-being of either the secret giver or the secret holder.”</p>
<p>“That is true,” Tony agreed. “But J, you know this already. After all, you like to tattle on me to Kae all the time, and you used to do the same thing with Pep and Rhodey.”</p>
<p>Tony smiled at the nostalgic thought.</p>
<p>A wry sigh came out of JARVIS’ speakers.</p>
<p>“I am well aware of what to do on occasions where keeping the secret would be detrimental to one’s immediate health. Handling that sort of situation is well within my computational repertoire.”</p>
<p>“Then what is different in this case?”</p>
<p>“What if revealing the secret does not provide an immediate benefit, but may provide one in the longer term?”</p>
<p>
  <em>JARVIS, my boy, you’re really growing up… Facing complex ethical quandaries and everything.</em>
</p>
<p>“Well then, J, in that case, it becomes a matter of probabilities. You must identify all potential outcomes of your decision, determine the probability of each outcome occurring and its weight, whether positive or negative. Then you simply calculate whether your choice has a higher probability of positive or negative consequences.”</p>
<p>“Interesting,” JARVIS said. “If you do not mind my saying so, Sir, such a calculation seems beyond the capabilities of most humans.”</p>
<p>Tony laughed. “That’s true; J. Us humans usually shorten the calculation by simply identifying the best and worst outcomes for both sides of a decision and going off that. That, plus past experience, is usually enough for a decent estimate. But, since you do have the computational cycles to spare I thought that you would prefer a more systematic approach.”</p>
<p>“Indeed, Sir.”</p>
<p>“Now, are you ready to explain the reason for your questions or should I give you a moment?”</p>
<p>“If you do not mind, Sir, I believe that I will need to gather additional data to complete my calculation.”</p>
<p>“Got it, J, just give me a buzz when you’re done.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> “I believe that I am ready, Sir,” JARVIS’ voice once again interrupted Tony’s reading.</p>
<p>His calculation had taken at most five minutes to complete.</p>
<p>Tony knew that the time was both a moment and an eternity from JARVIS’ perspective, depending on how it had happened.</p>
<p>Regardless, Tony knew that what his son had to tell him was very important. So, when JARVIS did begin to speak he immediately dropped the fidget toy that he had been playing with while waiting. Looking directly into the nearest camera, he replied.</p>
<p>“Okay, J, hit me.”</p>
<p>“If you may recall, Sir, that I have previously mentioned the work that I have been doing with Madame Nakia in Wakanda?”</p>
<p>“Which part? Spin-doctoring or data mining?”</p>
<p>“This is to do with the latter,” despite JARVIS’ determination to speak, there was still something unusually hesitant about his speech.</p>
<p>Tony was both surprised and proud of the growth in his son that such care demonstrated.</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“As part of the investigation, a person of interest was identified by Madame Nakia and her team, someone who was negatively impacted by a Wakandan mission some decades ago. More specifically, this person, who was a child at the time, suffered a tragedy as a direct consequence of a series of mistakes and traitorous actions by Wakandan citizens. Having recently learned the truth of said mission’s events, King T’Chaka now wishes to make amends for this person’s losses.”</p>
<p>“Good for the King, I suppose,” Tony said, a bit confused, “But why did you feel the need to tell me about this?”</p>
<p>Once again, JARVIS paused for a moment. This time, there was a hint of embarrassment in his tone when he resumed.</p>
<p>“I am afraid that I have been unsuccessful in locating this individual in the present time, and hoped that you might be able to help.”</p>
<p>That made Tony laugh.</p>
<p>
  <em>JARVIS, the ultimate information broker, being unable to find something. What were the odds?</em>
</p>
<p>“I’d be happy to help, J. Give me the deets, would you?”</p>
<p>Tony spun towards the nearest computer interface, unsurprised to already see data streaming across its surface.</p>
<p>“This is Erik Stevens.”</p>
<p>Two images appeared on the screen, one a pre-teen boy about ten years of age, the other a military enlistment photo at age 18.</p>
<p>“Born in 1983, to successful African American parents, his life growing up in Southern California was fairly standard. That was, until early 1992.”</p>
<p>
  <em>The riots. </em>
</p>
<p>Tony remembered hearing about them as a kid, especially with Stark Industries facilities in the Los Angeles Basin.</p>
<p>“What happened?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Erik’s mother was tragically caught up in the riots, ending up in prison. Shortly after that, Erik’s father, who was actually an undercover Wakandan War Dog, died on a mission. Due to the Xenophobia of certain parties in Wakanda, people who are under investigation for high treason in part due to their actions against Erik and his family, Erik’s very existence was hidden from King T’Chaka. This meant that instead of being brought home to Wakanda, his right as the child of a War Dog, Erik was condemned to an unhappy experience in the American foster system.”</p>
<p>Tony winced.</p>
<p>A nine-year-old black kid, stuck in the foster system under those circumstances, was not likely to have a positive experience.</p>
<p>Alongside JARVIS’ words, Erik’s foster record flashed across the screen.</p>
<p>Just as Tony had expected, it did not tell a pretty story.</p>
<p>The child had bounced from home-to-home, rarely staying longer than a year. Thankfully, it looked like Erik had escaped the worst-case scenarios that had been flying through Tony’s head.</p>
<p>Upon aging out of the foster system he had immediately enrolled in the US Marine Corp.</p>
<p>Then a thought struck Tony, “wait for a second, you said that his mom was imprisoned, not killed. What happened to her?”</p>
<p>In response, JARVIS flashed an obituary across the screen.</p>
<p>“Died in prison, January 1994. Jeeze, that sucks. But JARVIS, it seems like you’ve been able to track this guy pretty good. What do you need me for?”</p>
<p>“I am afraid, Sir, that once young Erik enlisted in 2001 his records became increasingly difficult to trace.”</p>
<p>Now, a military training record for young Erik “Killmonger” Stevens flashed across the screen. It detailed his time in boot camp, early missions, and transfer into Special Forces. From there, the records that JARVIS’ offered grew more random; a sequence of mission reports filled with the iconic black bars of classified documents.</p>
<p>Finally, the files that JARVIS showed reached 2010. A single mission flashed on the screen, one with familiar details.</p>
<p>“Stevens’ special ops team was based out of Afghanistan at the time of your original capture and escape from the Ten Rings,” JARVIS said quietly. “From what I could find, he was on one of the teams that investigated the Ten Rings encampment after your escape.”</p>
<p>Tony fought back the hovering flashback that the images nearly triggered with a sheer force of will. Clearing his throat, he commented.</p>
<p>“While that’s an interesting factoid, J, it’s not really relevant to your puzzle, is it?”</p>
<p>“Not as such,” JARVIS agreed, removing the distressing image from the screen. “My intent, Sir, was to place context, not disturb you.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Tony said, waving off his digital son’s concern. “Keep going.”</p>
<p>“Right. As I said, Mister Stevens’ record, as patchwork as it was, showed considerable skill in his chosen career as well as a certain… disrespect for authority.”</p>
<p><em>One that you would doubtless appreciate, </em>went unspoken but understood.</p>
<p>“Shortly after his Afghanistan assignment, Mister Stevens decided to cut ties with the US Military,” JARVIS continued. “He went AWOL during a mission, and from then managed to successfully vanish from view. There are some references in the military, SHIELD and CIA databases of a man matching Stevens’ description doing mercenary work, but nothing concrete.”</p>
<p>“And I assume that this is where I come in?” Tony asked, bemused.</p>
<p>“Yes, Sir. I thought that with your rather large network of contacts and your ‘magical powers’-”</p>
<p>Tony laughed at the audible quotation marks around JARVIS’ words. Even several months after their reunion, his baby boy was still giving him a hard time about his new skill set.</p>
<p>Sorcerer Tony, indeed.</p>
<p>“That I might be able to help, discreetly?”</p>
<p> “Precisely.”</p>
<p>“No prob, J, one discreet hunt for a missing Wakandan coming right up.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. A Schism Exposed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Okoye, General and leader of Wakanda’s Dora Milaje</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Schism Exposed</h1><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>Despite her status as the General of the Dora Milaje, Okoye still made sure to take her fair share of guard shifts, looking after the members of the Royal Family that were in her charge.</p><p>Not only did it help her to keep her skills sharp and maintain comradery with her Dora, but it was also a welcome change of pace. Her duties as a member of King T’Chaka’s Royal Council were stressful and filled with paperwork and difficult decisions. In contrast, her time serving as a guard was mentally simple, almost meditative.</p><p>While the guardian Dora did have to be always on alert for anything that might indicate an attack, ready to act if necessary, there were long stretches of time where there was little else for them to do.</p><p>This was especially true when the King was in his private spaces, such as his bedroom, family area, or, like now, his personal office.</p><p>In those cases the guardian Dora remained outside of the room’s door, standing at attention, keeping their leader safe from both danger and unnecessary interruptions. </p><p>For a trained warrior like Okoye, such watchful duties were a matter of well-established habit.</p><p> </p><p>On this particular afternoon, however, Okoye’s plans for peaceful meditation were interrupted.</p><p>Shortly after lunch, during a time that the King had recently set aside for Prince T’Challa’s advanced training in the roles and responsibilities that came with ruling a nation, the quiet of the hall was interrupted.</p><p>Okoye’s well-trained ears caught the sound of footsteps on the floor. Despite the fact that the curvature of the hallway kept her from seeing the walker, the rising tone of the footsteps was enough to tell her that the person was approaching. Not only that; but the distinctive clicking of the steps indicated that they were being made by a woman in stiletto heels.</p><p>Both Okoye and her fellow guard, Ayo, stiffened, preparing themselves for whatever might come around the corner.</p><p>The figure that appeared a moment later was not a threat, or at least not a threat to the Doras’ primary, anyways.</p><p>Going by her wardrobe, Nakia had likely just finished a video call with an Outsider, one of some significance.</p><p>In defiance of the warm, humid climate of Wakanda, she wore a woman’s business suit; conservative button-up, suit jacket, and slim pencil skirt, along with some nude hose and a pair of pumps. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun and her make-up was understated, the perfect vision of a Western professional woman. The only things that deviated from her persona were the highly-visible Kimoyo Beads that she wore on one wrist and a large satchel in a vibrant Wakandan fabric that was slung over one shoulder.</p><p>The look on Nakia’s face was troubled, even as she greeted Okoye and Ayo with unfeigned pleasure.</p><p>“Ladies,” she said with a tight smile. “Is his Majesty available? Something has come up which we need to discuss.”</p><p>Okoye simply raised one eyebrow, asking without words for more detail.</p><p>Her look made Nakia laugh, relieving some of the younger woman’s tension.</p><p> </p><p>Once she was done laughing, Nakia responded to her friend's unspoken request with a plainly spoken no.</p><p>“I am afraid that I cannot provide further details without his Majesty’s permission. However, this news is related to the matter which his Majesty and I will be presenting to the council tomorrow.”</p><p>Okoye accepted Nakia’s negative reply with a nod.</p><p>Then she added, “the Prince is with his Majesty at this time. Is the issue urgent enough that I will need to interrupt them, or can this matter wait until their meeting is complete?”</p><p>Nakia hesitated for a moment and then answered. “It is not so urgent that I cannot wait. Do you know how long their meeting is expected to continue?”</p><p>A glance at the interface provided by her own Kimoyo Beads gave Okoye the information that she needed to answer her friend’s question.</p><p>“It appears that Prince T’Challa is scheduled to join the Queen for a trip to the refugee camp at four," she said. "There is a gap in the King’s schedule at that same time.”</p><p>“That should work. Please let me know if anything changes. Otherwise, I will return at four.”</p><p>Nakia let her shoulders relax and offered her friend a grin before adding, “besides, that gives me a chance to change into something more comfortable.”</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, when Nakia returned later that afternoon, she had indeed changed.</p><p>Now, instead of the unsuitable for the climate business wear, she wore a flowing sleeveless dress that fell to her feet. The dress, a local Wakandan style, was comfortable and breezy, full of bright colors and patterns that stood out against the darker color of her skin. Her hair, now back to its normal curls, hovered around her head. Her feet were clad in leather sandals. The only things that remained from her earlier visit were the Kimoyo Beads on her wrist and the satchel that she carried.</p><p>“Is the King available now?” she asked easily, her face much less stressed than it had been earlier.</p><p><em>Has something changed? </em>Okoye wondered. <em>If it has, it looks like it must have been for the better. Still, this secret business that Nakia has had with King T’Chaka has gone on for long enough. Surely the time for revelation must be coming soon?</em></p><p>As if reading her friend’s mind, Nakia said.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Okoye, the time for answers is close at hand. All will be revealed in tomorrow’s meeting.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh? Thank Bast. </em>
</p><p>Despite her friend’s teasing provocation, Okoye quashed her relief; hiding behind the mask of a guardian Dora.</p><p>Instead, she simply replied.</p><p>“Thank you for that information, Nakia of the River Tribe, King T’Chaka is available and has been informed of your impending visit.”</p><p>Reaching out, Okoye opened the door to King T’Chaka’s private office.</p><p>Inside, she caught sight of her ruler, seated behind his desk and hard at work.</p><p><em>The past year has taken a toll,</em> Okoye thought sadly, just as she did every time that she caught sight of her King. <em>Will he ever recover the joy that I remember from before, or will the events of this past year always hang like a mill-stone round his neck?</em></p><p>Watching the King’s face light up at the sight of his visitor, despite the nature of their business, was still a pleasure to behold.</p><p>Despite the fact that Nakia’s new position had kept her at home in Wakanda these past months, T’Chaka still responded to his honorary niece’s arrival like she had been gone for years.</p><p>“Nakia,” he said with a smile. “Okoye said that you had news to report.”</p><p>“Indeed, Malume,” Nakia agreed, her own smile now bright as she walked past Okoye and into the room. “I have all of the updates that you had requested here…”</p><p>Before Okoye could hear anything further, Nakia shut the door behind her with a decisive thud.</p><p>
  <em>Damn it.</em>
</p><p>From her place at Okoye’s side, Ayo muffled a snort.</p><p><em>Bast grant me patience,</em> Okoye thought as she sighed.</p><p>Then she turned back towards the hall to resume her post.</p><p>Tomorrow’s council meeting couldn’t come soon enough.</p><p>Maybe then she would finally get some answers.</p><p> </p><p>As Okoye had expected, the next day’s meeting of the King’s Council was filled with horrifying and surprising revelations.</p><p> </p><p>The council meeting began as normal, with the current High Priest of Bast, Zuri, calling for the goddess’ blessing upon their gathering.</p><p>Next came the updates from the leadership of each segment of the Wakandan population.</p><p>There were summaries from the Departments of Education, Science, Medicine, Agriculture, Business, etc. as well as the chiefs of the four tribes of Wakanda.</p><p>Finally, the military departments reported in: W’Kabi for the Warriors, Okoye for the Dora Milaje, etc.</p><p>The last person on the list for updates was the department of External Affairs, the War Dogs.</p><p>To the surprise of many Councilors, though not Okoye with her insider knowledge, when it came time for the War Dogs’ Department to give their updates, it was not the current Department Head who stood up to speak. Instead, Nakia was the one who rose to her feet.</p><p>Prior to that point she had been seated beside her father, the chief of the River Tribe, and assumed to be present as his heir presumptive. But now that deliberate piece of subterfuge was dismissed.</p><p>As Nakia stood to speak, she nodded to Okoye, who gestured for the doors to the Council chamber to open.</p><p>The guardian Dora Milaje followed her command and allowed several armed War Dogs to file into the room.</p><p>The additional warriors took up positions along the perimeter of the space, nodding to their fellows already present as they did so.</p><p>The fact that there were so many extra faces made Okoye tense.</p><p>While she trusted her friend, her trained sentinel senses were tingling. Something was about to happen.</p><p>“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Council,” Nakia said, beginning her speech. “As you all are aware, this past year has been a time of much uncertainty for our great nation. Dangers from beyond our borders have come to our doorstep. Lies spread by <em>Colonizers</em> have compromised our nation’s secrecy, security, and even our very way of life. But we Wakandans are strong. We have refused to allow the actions from our foes to overwhelm us. Instead, we have emerged stronger than ever. The nation of Wakanda is great, and now everyone in the world knows it.”</p><p>With that last statement, Nakia’s voice rose. She crossed her fists before her chest in a sharp manner. “Wakanda Forever!” she called.</p><p>From their places around the room, the War Dogs and Dora Milaje echoed her movement and definitive statement.</p><p>Okoye, W’Kabi, King T’Chaka, and his wife and son, and the rest of the Royal Council all followed suit.</p><p>Now, Nakia’s tone turned severe, as she continued her speech.</p><p>“But the strength of our great nation was not all that was revealed by this crisis. Other, less pleasant, secrets that were hidden beneath the surface were brought to light. In the time since our great nation of Wakanda chose to hide its true strength behind a subterfuge of vulnerability, a disturbing movement has arisen. This movement has turned pride in our country’s strength into an undeserved arrogance, a belief that our tribes are an innately superior race, better than all others.”</p><p>Okoye frowned, <em>where was this going?</em></p><p>“In their arrogance, the leaders of this movement have allowed their agenda to bias their actions, to the detriment of our nation. From altering or compromising War Dog missions to discrediting researchers who disprove their beliefs, even to altering reports and lying to their King, Council, and the Wakandan people. Many of the faults which the <em>Colonizers</em> have used as ammunition to lay at our feet have come as a result of their actions.”</p><p>A half dozen War Dogs moved from their posts at the perimeter of the room to step up behind Councilors, Department Heads, or Heirs, ready to act if they dared to move. To Okoye’s great shock, one of those so identified by their movement was the High Priest.</p><p>Zuri was a long-time confidant to the royal family, one who Okoye had been certain was loyal to his king and country.</p><p>It seemed that the older man agreed, as he spoke up, interrupting Nakia’s speech.</p><p>“Your Majesty, what is this?” he asked, waving an arm at the hovering warriors.</p><p>King T’Chaka’s face was like stone. He leaned forward a bit, and when he spoke his voice implacable with suppressed fury.</p><p>But all that he said was one word.</p><p>“N’Jakada”.</p><p>While Okoye was confused by the unknown name, Zuri blanched. It was clear that he knew the man who the King had referenced.</p><p>Prince T’Challa had clearly been brought into the loop as well, as his features held even more fury than his father’s. Queen Ramonda’s hand on his thigh was the only thing keeping him in place.</p><p>Zuri had sagged back in his seat, allowing the War Dog at his side to place a hand on one shoulder and hold him in place.</p><p>Nakia continued her speech, talking as if Zuri’s interruption had not occurred.</p><p>“These men and women will be brought to justice for their crimes against our Nation, our Royal Family, and the great Goddess Bast, who has granted the people of Wakanda the honor of her favor in ages past.”</p><p>Each and every one of those identified by a hovering War Dog went into custody calmly, accepting their fate with a surprising amount of serenity.</p><p>All, that was, except for the assistant to the head of the Business Department.</p><p>When the War Dogs attempted to take him into custody, he slashed out with a hidden dagger. Then, he charged towards Nakia with his arm outstretched.</p><p>“Die, you <em>Colonizer's </em>whore!” he shouted as he attempted to plunge the dagger into her chest.</p><p>Okoye was unsurprised when her friend dodged the attempt with ease, smacking the weapon out of her attacker’s grip as he stumbled past. Before he could recover his footing, Okoye, standing nearby, swung her staff sharply, knocking him out with one hard tap of its butt.</p><p>“Take him,” she ordered the War Dogs who had failed to prevent his earlier charge, “and make sure that he doesn’t cause any further trouble.”</p><p>“Foolish man,” she sniffed at Nakia, who met her gaze with an approving nod. “But hardly surprising, such men often are.”</p><p>By now the rest of the identified conspirators had been escorted out of the room, leaving a much reduced Royal Council behind.</p><p>“Now, then,” King T’Chaka said as he reclaimed his throne seat. “I believe that we still had other business to discuss, including the consequences of this morning’s excitement.”</p><p>But before the reduced Council could begin, they were once more interrupted.</p><p>This time, it was a runner; a pilot who Okoye knew was currently stationed at the refugee camp.</p><p>“My apologies, your Majesty,” he said, after offering a formal bow, crossing one fist over his chest in the appropriate manner, “but there is a matter of some urgency and… delicacy at the camps that the commander is uncertain how to handle.”</p><p>He hesitated for a moment, and then went on.</p><p>“We have some new arrivals.”</p><p> </p><p>While the runner had only been sent to fetch W’Kabi, who as the leader of Wakanda’s warriors, including those stationed at the camps, had the authority that the camp commander lacked, the rest of the Council had eagerly latched upon the opportunity the summons provided.</p><p>They all needed time to process the revelations which had just occurred, and a trip to the border offered just that.</p><p>Fortunately, King T’Chaka agreed with the remaining councilors' desire for a recess. He granted the proposal to join W’Kabi’s outing with ease.</p><p>Despite knowing the content of Nakia’s speech in advance, he was also still visibly struggling with recent events, or at least visible to someone like Okoye, anyways.</p><p>Gathering up their various entourages, the remaining council trooped out to the palace’s landing platform.</p><p>The Talon fighter that the runner had arrived in would not be large enough to carry even the reduced Council.</p><p>Instead, when they reached the platform Okoye found that the small craft had been joined by a larger Royal Talon with one of her Dora already at the helm.</p><p>As Okoye waited at the back of the group for her turn to board, she was pleased to see Nakia come over to join her.</p><p>“Thank you for trusting me,” Nakia said simply, stepping up to her friend’s side. “I know that was not easy for one with your suspicious nature to be kept out of the loop on something so obviously important.”</p><p>“I understand, my friend,” Okoye replied. “Rumors are far too quick to spread, particularly in an enclosed environment like our Royal Palace. All it would have taken was the wrong pair of ears hearing something sensitive and the whole operation would have been blown.”</p><p>Nakia nodded. “True. And besides, his Majesty had requested discretion until the investigation was complete. JARVIS and I were the only ones to know the full scope of the situation. Everyone else only had pieces of the whole.”</p><p>“JARVIS?”</p><p>At first, the identity of Nakia’s partner surprised Okoye. For an outsider to be trusted beyond their own people was completely foreign to her sense of national pride. But the more that Okoye thought about it, the more that it made sense. Yes, JARVIS was an outsider, but in this particular case, that was a positive thing. He had no divided loyalties to endanger the operation.</p><p>As far as Okoye had seen, his loyalty was given to individuals instead of ideals.</p><p>In this case, it was his bond to the Princess Shuri, his respect for the King, and his close friendship to Nakia. As such, he was unlikely to be compromised due to any discoveries.</p><p>The fact that JARVIS was an artificially created consciousness also meant that he was not driven by emotion, and thus free from human biases.</p><p>All of that, plus his unparalleled skill at information gathering and processing, made him a perfect choice to be her friend’s confidant.</p><p>Since Nakia couldn’t see into Okoye’s thoughts, she assumed that she would have to justify the AI’s involvement.</p><p>“He has been exactly what I needed in an assistant for an operation of this scope,” she said hastily.</p><p>“Easy, my friend, you do not need to explain. I fully understand and agree with your choice. For a <em>Colonizer</em>, Anthony Stark managed to birth a rather impressive child. His care for Shuri would be enough to make me appreciate him, never mind all that he has done for the nation.”</p><p>Nakia smiled as the pair of friends stepped forward and onto the jet.</p><p>“Precisely,” she agreed.</p><p> </p><p>When the runner had spoken of unusual new arrivals at the refugee camp, Okoye had assumed that would mean one of two things. One, that there was a large enough batch of new arrivals that the standard protocol which had been established in recent months would not suffice to process them; or two, that the new arrivals were not actually refugees, but rather a hostile force.</p><p>To her surprise, at first glance, it appeared that neither of these things was true.</p><p>The new arrivals were not large in number, nor were they heavily armed. To be fair, the fifty or so men and women who were gathered to one side of the camp did not look like refugees. Instead, they were well-dressed and healthy, with expensive gear gathered in travel packs at their sides.</p><p>Despite the fact that they came in a variety of shades, including the Black of native Wakandans, they shared certain commonalities. They all stood proud, showing no signs of distress.</p><p>When they spotted King T’Chaka and his entourage, they turned as if in a phalanx. Then, as one, they bowed, in accordance with Wakandan traditions.</p><p><em>War Dogs? </em>Okoye thought with surprise. She didn’t think that there was such a thing as a non-Black Wakandan. <em>But,</em> she supposed, <em>anything was possible, especially given today’s revelations.</em></p><p>It was clear that Okoye wasn’t the only one whose thoughts were racing.</p><p>The King’s entire party had frozen at the visitors’ unexpected action.</p><p>To her surprise, however, the first person to break the tableau was not their monarch. Instead, Queen Ramonda was the first to move.</p><p>She whispered something quietly, a hand covering her mouth.</p><p>Okoye, standing nearby, could hear her voice but not the exact words that she spoke. It sounded something like “Ami”.</p><p>Despite the lack of volume, it seemed that the woman at the head of the visitors’ phalanx knew what the Queen said. She smiled softly and said. “Hello, Rami”.</p><p>The woman appeared to be the same age as the Queen, with similar features that indicated a close level of familial relation. Reaching up, she pulled down her lower lip to reveal the mark of a Wakandan citizen.</p><p>At Okoye’s side, Nakia gave a startled squeak.</p><p>Clearly, that action was enough for her to identify the mysterious “Ami”.</p><p>But then King T’Chaka finally spoke.</p><p>“Amira,” he said with an intense frown. “I was told that you had passed.”</p><p>The now identified Amira sneered. “Is that what Zuri told you? I had wondered when my handler failed to reach out. So, where is that old bastard, I would have thought that he’d be lurking around here somewhere.”</p><p>Okoye frowned, glancing at Nakia. The younger woman was also glowering, though her face showed signs of anger, not confusion.</p><p>
  <em>What did this woman have to do with today’s revelations? </em>
</p><p>Around them, the rest of the King’s entourage was exchanging looks of confusion similar to Okoye’s own baffled expression.</p><p>Amira’s sneer morphed into a pleased grin.</p><p>“So my contact wasn’t lying,” she said with relish. “There was some good that came out of SHIELD’s mess.”</p><p>When the King failed to respond, Prince T’Challa stepped forward instead. Glancing around, he focused on the crowd of warriors and refugees that were watching the confrontation with wide eyes.</p><p>“Perhaps we should move this somewhere more private,” he suggested, gesturing towards the command building.</p><p>“That would be wise,” Amira agreed. “And it is good to see you all grown up, your highness.”</p><p>Then, with the confident gesture of a commander ordering her troops, she separated out three of her companions.</p><p>There were two young men, one who, from his appearance, was her son by an outsider.</p><p>The other was a powerful Black man, whose dreads and the ritualized scarification that peeked up through the edges of his clothing further emphasized his aura of menace. Okoye could tell from his appearance and posture that he was a warrior of some skill.</p><p>In contrast to the youth of the first two men, Amira’s third companion was older. A man of South Asian heritage, he was dressed in the robes of their religious men and carried himself to match. He looked to be… <em>oh, what were they called…?</em> A monk of some kind.</p><p>Once all three men had stepped forward, Amira spoke again.</p><p>“Lead the way,” she said with a casual wave.</p><p> </p><p>From outside, the camp’s command building looked like a simple rondavel, a round hut a single story in height and roofed in traditional thatch. </p><p>Once Okoye stepped inside, however, the rustic impression was broken.</p><p>Instead of rough walls and minimal lighting, she found herself in a large conference room, brightly lit by a combination of artificial lighting and a single massive skylight at the center. The skylight opening was hidden from the outside by a sophisticated illusion, one created with the same technology that made up the shield wall that surrounded Wakanda’s borders.</p><p>From the position of the skylight, it appeared that the conference room took up the central half of the building. Meanwhile, a number of doors, either open or closed, were scattered along the curved perimeter of the large space. Based upon what Okoye could see through the open doors, they all led to individual offices and other, smaller meeting areas.</p><p>The King and his much-reduced Royal Council, along with their guards, claimed the space furthest from the exit, allowing the visitors an easy way out.</p><p>As they stepped inside, Okoye could see the tense shoulders of Amira’s young companions relax a bit when they realized that they had an ‘escape’ route available.</p><p>Despite their willingness to accept Wakandan hospitality, it was clear that they were uncomfortable with the situation and were grateful to have a way out if things went south.</p><p>Okoye had to admit that the provision also eased her mind. In their position, she would be more likely to remain calm and less inclined to attack if she had such a route at hand.</p><p>As she came to a stop, she took up position off to one side of the main Wakandan group. The location placed her body between the Royal Family and the Outsiders, with plenty of room to move if it became necessary, the best that she could do under these circumstances.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately for Okoye’s nerves, once everyone was inside the space Queen Ramonda immediately reversed direction. She pushed past the protection of Okoye and the rest of the hovering bodyguards, heading straight for the strangers. With her arms outstretched, she reached out to her – <em>friend? </em>Then, with uncharacteristic aggressiveness, she pulled the mysterious Amira into a tight embrace.</p><p>“Blessings be to Bast, you’re alive,” she said with a sob, her body shaking with the extreme emotion.</p><p>Even as she patted her – <em>friend, sister, whoever’s </em>– back Amira shot King T’Chaka an inscrutable look. </p><p>“When did you find out?” she asked.</p><p>Several of the councilors bristled at the woman’s abrupt question, but King T’Chaka didn’t hesitate to respond.</p><p>“Had suspicions? Within weeks of the SHIELD release,” he said quietly. “Knew as a certainty; three weeks.”</p><p>It was here that Nakia stepped forward from her place beside Prince T’Challa.</p><p>“Lady Amira,” she said with a nod of recognition, “my name is Nakia of the River Tribe. I was assigned by the King to lead the investigation into certain matters that were exposed by recent events. Your file was one of the ones which crossed my desk as a result of that investigation. I have been searching for answers about your supposed death for several months now.”</p><p>“I know, little niece,” Amira said, offering Nakia a surprisingly gentle smile. “My people intercepted your efforts. It was what brought me here, the hope that Wakanda was finally ready for the truth. But I was not the only one.”</p><p>Queen Ramonda stepped out of the embrace, returning to her husband’s side. While the depth of her present emotions were still evident in her eyes, she had otherwise managed to regain her composure.</p><p><em>My Queen, </em>Okoye thought with pride. S<em>ee her strength.</em></p><p> </p><p>With all of her charges back within the protective Dora’s cordon, Okoye could release a bit of her own tension. This allowed her to narrow her focus towards the strangers.</p><p>Similarly, with her arms free, Amira was able to turn back towards her companions. She gestured them forward to her side with a small smile.</p><p>“My King,” she said formally, “I would like to introduce you to Master Sinbad, of the Order of the Mystic Arts,” she waved towards the robed man, “a friend and close ally.”</p><p>“My son, Nahir,” the young man of mixed race pulled his lip down to reveal a Wakandan tattoo.</p><p>The fact that he had one surprised Okoye for a moment before she remembered that the mark was embedded into the genetic code of Wakandan citizens for this very reason. As long as they had been trained in the secret of how to reveal said mark, anyone of Wakandan heritage could do so.</p><p>“And, finally,” Amira continued, waving towards her third companion.</p><p>As she spoke, the scarred warrior stepped forward, reaching into the neck of his shirt with one hand to remove something that hung from a chain around his neck. At the same time, he repeated Nahir’s movement, flashing his lip at the King’s party to reveal his own Wakandan mark. Then he held out the hand that had been fishing around in his shirt. Turning it until the palm faced up, he opened it slowly.</p><p>Resting in the palm of his hand was an ornate signet ring.</p><p>From her place beside Okoye, Nakia gasped.</p><p>“So it IS all true, and he has survived,” she whispered.</p><p>But Amira was not finished with her introduction. She spoke over the gasp from Nakia and whispers from others in the King’s party.</p><p>“Your Majesty, Members of the Royal Council, it is my honor to introduce to you; Erik Stevens. Or rather, Prince N’Jakada, the son of Prince N’Jobu, of the Royal Panther Tribe of Wakanda.”</p><p>“Sup,” Erik said, his sharp smirk showing off the glint of a golden tooth.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. A Grand Inquisition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: Tony Stark</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Posting this chapter so soon after news broke about the tragic death of actor Chadwick Boseman, who played T'Challa in the Black Panther movie, left me feeling bittersweet.<br/>While T'Challa is not a major character in this story, he does have a presence in this chapter. So, in a small way, this chapter is my way of honoring an actor who brought the character to life on the big screen.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>A Grand Inquisition</h1><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>From behind the serene mask of Master Sinbad, Tony suppressed a cackle as he watched jaws drop on faces all across the Wakandan side of the room.</p><p>Only King T’Chaka and his new spymaster, Nakia, looked unsurprised by Amira’s introduction.</p><p>From JARVIS’ briefing, he knew that they were the ones already aware of Erik’s existence and physical appearance. While Nakia had managed to remain relatively unruffled, the King was visibly shaken at the sight of his nephew.</p><p><em>Guilt, </em>Tony thought.</p><p>With King T’Chaka’s involvement in the death of his brother, Prince N’Jobu, as well as the recent revelations about Zuri’s actions against both the boy and his father, the response was to be expected. The Wakandan king’s soul had to be in turmoil over what had happened to his nephew.</p><p>In contrast to King T’Chaka’s response, both his wife and son were amongst those who had not been brought into the loop.</p><p>It took Tony less than a minute to figure out why.</p><p>The older man was ashamed of what had happened and would want to keep the secret as long as it did no harm. Like any father, he wouldn’t want his son thinking less of him. But now, the king’s reticence was about to be his downfall.</p><p>Or rather, Tony admitted, it would have been.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Three Weeks Earlier:</em>
</p><p> “Sir,” the sound of JARVIS’ voice broke through the spiral of rage Tony had fallen into. Startled, Tony looked up from the tablet which he had been reading with a frown.</p><p>“What is it, J?” he asked, doing his best to camouflage his voice, to hide the rage that poured through his veins.</p><p>“Are you certain that seeking your aid in this matter was an acceptable move on my part, Sir?”</p><p>“What?” The haze of rage began to morph as Tony pondered his created son’s words.</p><p>“My request to you, Sir. Are you certain that it was appropriate?”</p><p>“Are your processors malfunctioning? We’ve been through all of this already, baby boy, remember?”</p><p>A feeling of confusion began to overtake rage in Tony’s head. He had just finished working through JARVIS’ ethical dilemma with him; why was his baby boy second-guessing himself?</p><p>“That was not what I am referring to, Sir,” JARVIS replied. The tone of his computer-generated voice was wry.</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>In response, JARVIS played an audio file. It was the sound of his namesake clearing his throat.</p><p>That audio instantly had Tony glancing around, searching for a misbehaving experiment about to explode or do something dramatic. The action was a reflex, trained into him in childhood, and then reinforced over the years.</p><p>Instead of an experiment, however, this time the danger came from a different part of the inventor’s psyche.</p><p>When he looked around, Tony saw what had prompted JARVIS’ action. There were a plethora of small objects in the air around him, hovering over their original locations.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>Tony hated that he showed such a visible loss of control. He knew that Kae, JARVIS, and others found it useful to have a visual indicator, but it rankled that he couldn’t do it on his own.  A man of his age should not have so much difficulty controlling his emotions, especially a Stark.</p><p>He had been doing well until Stane’s invitation had arrived. But the emotions that it had brought to the surface had left him with a bit of a hair-trigger. Ever since then, it took a lot less to set him off. He had been doubling down on his meditation time, but still, all that it took to set his rage off these days was a circumstance that resembled one of his triggering scenarios.</p><p>And the file in his hands was a perfect trigger.</p><p>Erik – <em>N’Jakada’s </em>– story was far too similar to Tony’s own experiences. He even had ‘Uncle James’, aka Zuri, to match Obie.</p><p>Of course, it didn’t help that Tony hadn’t been expecting to find a trigger in JARVIS’ request. It was easier to maintain control when he could prepare himself for the possibility of a triggering scenario before it could occur.</p><p>Fortunately, JARVIS’ audible reminder had been enough to allow him to regain control.</p><p>But the emotions that had caused the loss of control remained. Tony was determined that young Erik would get his well-deserved revenge.</p><p>But who would the younger man see as the cause of his misfortunes?</p><p>Would he place his anger in the right place?</p><p>Or had his rage been aimed at King T’Challa and Wakanda instead?</p><p>Given his own experiences, Tony was certain that a man like Zuri would have made sure that evidence implicating the King would have been left at the scene. A weapon like Erik wouldn’t have been abandoned otherwise.</p><p>“Tell me that… that bastard is not going to get away with this?” Tony demanded.</p><p>“Of course not, Sir,” JARVIS’ tone was offended. “Plans are already in place for the takedown. Madame Nakia is simply waiting until just the right moment to do it in one fell swoop.”</p><p>“Good,” Tony said, offering a wolf-like snarl. “If you can without compromising anything, I would like the details of THAT MAN’s fate.”</p><p>JARVIS agreed, and Tony went to work, hunting for Erik – <em>N’Jakada</em> – and JARVIS’ other missing persons.</p><p>Initially, Tony hit the same wall as his son.</p><p>Electronically, the missing Wakandans were ghosts. Quite the trick, though not surprising given the level of technology that they would have grown up using.</p><p>With electronic surveillance taken off the list, Tony was forced to resort to other, more esoteric, means. In this case, it was through the Order that he had a breakthrough in his hunt.</p><p> </p><p>When he reached out to the rest of the group in residence at the New York Sanctum, explaining his search, one of the others volunteered a suggestion. He had a personal link that might prove useful.</p><p>“Your sister-in-law, huh?” Tony said, curiosity audible in his voice. “I didn’t know that your family had any connections in Africa, Jaswant.”</p><p>The other man shrugged. “It was not relevant,” he replied.</p><p>Unlike the younger Li Chao, Jaswant was a senior member of Kaecilius’ cadre, a long-time friend who had accompanied the pair in their move to the New York Sanctum.</p><p>“And she is my nephew’s wife, not my brother’s,” he corrected.</p><p>“Ah, right, you’re another one of those with misleading appearances, aren’t you,” Tony said with a wry grin.</p><p>That was one of the more interesting things about spending time with a bunch of Sorcerers. Physical appearance had become a less reliable indicator of age than it was anywhere else in the world.</p><p>“Correct,” Jaswant agreed. “But Amira has been a part of the family for some decades, ever since her Wakandan partner left her for dead back in ’84.”</p><p>
  <em>Interesting.</em>
</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Fucker named Zuri,” Jaswant expanded. “He was pissed about her relationship with my nephew. Apparently, he said something about contaminating herself with an outsider as he walked away, leaving her to bleed out. If my nephew hadn’t convinced me that it would be a good idea to mystically monitor her mission, she would have died that very night.”</p><p>Tony winced.</p><p>Jaswant’s summary was brutal but in keeping with what he’d read in JARVIS’ files. Everything except the fact that the woman had survived, that was. As far as the Wakandans, even Nakia and JARVIS, were aware, the War Dog named Amira was long dead.</p><p>“So what happened after that?”</p><p>Jaswant’s face crinkled up in a smug smile.</p><p>“Let us just say that Amira has become a very valuable member of the family.”</p><p>
  <em>Ah. Right, his family is like Li Chao’s, rich and influential. Though, if I remember correctly, their base of operations is in Singapore rather than in Hong Kong?</em>
</p><p>“And you think that she might be able to help me in my search?”</p><p>“It is likely. I do know that she has a network of such people, War Dogs and other former Wakandans who were abandoned, betrayed, or otherwise kicked out.”</p><p>“Well then, I suppose that you’d best set up a meeting.”</p><p> </p><p>It was that first meeting with Amira that had ultimately led to his presence at today’s confrontation.</p><p>After a bit of negotiation, including considerable dancing around the subject, Tony learned that Amira not only knew where Erik was, but that she had actually recruited the young man into her network. She had even done some of the prep work necessary to redirect the young royal’s righteous rage towards the correct targets.</p><p>Oh, Erik, N’Jakada, still HATED his uncle as the man who had killed his father. That fact was impossible to mistake, not given the nature of N’Jobu’s final injuries. But the full measure of his fury had been redirected towards Zuri, aka Uncle James, and his collaborators, instead of the nation of Wakanda as a whole.</p><p>All that Tony had to do was to offer Amira a verifiable copy of some of the files that JARVIS had provided to him, and she did the rest.</p><p>The confirmation that it wasn’t the whole nation of Wakanda, but just a select group of bigots, that had been the cause of so much grief had been exactly what she needed to mobilize her people. They immediately began making plans for a return, or in the case of the children and spouses, the first visit to their former homeland.</p><p>Given Master Jaswant’s trust in his family and Tony’s own impressions of the formidable woman, he had made the decision to reveal his full identity to the former War Dog.</p><p> </p><p>It was during their final meeting prior to the Wakandan excursion.</p><p>Tony had been looking for a way to visit his electronic son’s new home, and Amira’s trip provided the perfect way in. However, Amira was understandably reluctant to accept Tony’s inclusion in her party, not when she knew so little about him.</p><p>Up to that point, he had interacted with Amira as a colleague of her husband’s uncle, a Sorcerer named Sinbad. Since Sinbad was not exactly a common name, not for a person of Sinbad’s apparent Indian heritage, Tony knew that she knew that it had to be a pseudonym. Thus, he had implied that it was his chosen mage name, its fictional origin a reference to Sinbad’s past prior to joining the Order.</p><p>Amira had told Sinbad that, despite her dissatisfaction with her homeland’s leadership, she was still loyal to the land of Wakanda. As such, she would not compromise Wakanda’s safety by bringing in a stranger.</p><p>At her words, Tony sighed. Then he reluctantly dropped the illusion of Sinbad to reveal his true face.</p><p>To his surprise, Amira’s only response had been a small chuckle.</p><p>“Tony Stark,” she had said, “that was not the face that I had expected to see. Still, it is good to see that you are still in the land of the living.”</p><p>“Oh?” Tony was curious.</p><p>
  <em>What did she know of his old self that would trigger such a positive response?</em>
</p><p>“Your genius, it was a slap in the face to all of the arguments that Zuri and his ilk made back in Wakanda. It was proof that Wakandans were not innately superior by virtue of our heritage. That was a comfort back when I was recovering from Zuri’s betrayal. When, in the immediate aftermath of Afghanistan, the way that you chose to channel your experience was equally impressive. Between the armor... yes, my people had no difficulties in determining that the original versions of the Iron Soldier were your creation... and your work with the Maria Stark Foundation, which pushed against the xenophobes’ agenda, I had high hopes for what might come next.”</p><p>“When you were betrayed once again... and yes, that too was not hard to work out... I had assumed you were dead and that all of the good that you might someday do was now lost. But now, look at you. Anthony Stark, genius inventor extraordinaire, has reinvented himself once more.”</p><p>Amira’s words had Tony sputtering a bit, shocked at her level of understanding. He had just managed to collect himself and was preparing a rebuttal, an explanation, something… when she spoke again.</p><p>“I do not need to know the remainder of your tale, Anthony Stark, though I would like to one day, once it is complete. It is enough that you have found a home amongst the Mages of Kamar Taj, like Jaswant. I will allow you to accompany us on our journey home.”</p><p> </p><p>All of this backstory brought Tony back to this moment, in a conference room on the Wakandan border, watching as Wakanda’s wrongfully exiled sons and daughters returned home vindicated.</p><p> </p><p>N’Jakada’s big reveal did stir up a bit of excitement from the gathered Wakandans, but in the end, his presence didn’t have an immediate impact on the nation as a whole. Instead, his story was just another nail in the coffin of Zuri and his co-conspirators. That their determination to control the country’s direction went so far as to deny a member of the beloved royal family his rightful home, let alone their involvement in the death of Prince N’Jobu, was obscene.</p><p>From what Tony could tell with his outside perspective, veneration of the royal Panther tribe was an integral part of the Wakandan culture. It was nearly on par with the continued worship of their Panther Goddess, Bast. Even without the reams of proof that Tony knew Nakia and JARVIS and their colleagues would have gathered before the matter was ever brought to light, the villains’ fate was sealed. Their punishment was at hand, and Tony had managed to finagle a ring-side seat.</p><p> </p><p>Like the rest of Amira’s group, Master Sinbad (Tony) had been permitted to visit the secretive country’s interior. Unlike many in the group, former War Dogs and their families and friends who were taking the time to reconnect with their loved ones who had remained in Wakanda, Tony had no reason to split off. Instead, he remained with the core group. After all, like them, his loved one had his residence in the royal palace.</p><p>This was Tony’s first chance to see the place where his creation, his son JARVIS, had found a new home. So, while Amira was closeted with Nakia and the King, sharing information in preparation for the upcoming trials, and N’Jakada and his friend Nahir, Amira’s son, were getting a tour of the palace, including the training grounds, from Prince T’Challa, Tony set off on his own adventure.</p><p>Wandering through the corridors of the palace was a fascinating experience in and of itself.</p><p>While Tony had been exposed to numerous cultures in his lifetime, there was something unique about Wakandan architecture and design. The combination of traditional African design and advanced technological innovation was absolutely fascinating to see.</p><p>In addition, with his Mage Sense engaged, Tony could see the ways that the country had been influenced by one of the Elder Gods, an extra-dimensional being that he assumed was the land’s patron goddess Bast.</p><p>Eventually, though, Tony found himself in the science wing.</p><p>Like Nakia had all of those months before, he followed the sound of music to the lab where Shuri was working. Unlike the younger woman, however, he was stopped at the door by the girl’s pair of guardian Dora.</p><p>Between the recent revelations and the visitors, the guardians of the royal family were being particularly aggressive in the protection of their charges.</p><p>It took several conversations and separate approval from JARVIS, General Okoye, and the surprised-to-be-disturbed group of Amira, Nakia, and King T’Chaka, before Tony was permitted to meet the young Wakandan princess. Even then, the meeting was not private. Both of the girl’s Dora remained in the room, ready to act on a moment’s notice.</p><p>Officially, Master Sinbad was not interested in meeting the princess directly. Instead, he was there to examine recent Wakandan technological advances, ones which had an intersection with the Mystic Arts. And it just so happened that Shuri was the expert on several of those new technologies, despite her young age.</p><p>But, while Tony was curious about the technology, his real reason for wanting to meet the now teenage princess was more personal. He wanted to meet his son’s new best friend.</p><p> </p><p>Due to the delay caused by the need for permission, Tony was unsurprised to see clear signs that the lab had been rapidly cleaned up when he finally made it inside.</p><p>It wasn’t just the lab, either. Shuri herself showed signs of a quick change.</p><p>Her clothes carried no evidence of lab work, her hair was neat, and her lip gloss (the only makeup appropriate for her young age) was freshly applied.</p><p>Of course, nothing that she did would disguise the fact that she was so very young.</p><p>It gave Tony flashbacks to his own childhood, though even he wasn’t quite as precocious as the thirteen-year-old in front of him. He hadn't started college until fifteen, while the princess, regardless of her advantages, was already mastering topics that he’d first encountered while studying for his Ph.D.</p><p>While he’d never say it out loud, Tony was a bit jealous of the princess.</p><p>It was clear from his son’s stories that, unlike his own distant father, Shuri actually had the full support of her biological family. She didn’t have to struggle to find approval from a distant father and a mother constantly battling depression. Instead, her parents gave her their full support. She even had a big brother that loved and protected his baby sister.</p><p>Tony shook off the maudlin thoughts, even as he offered the child a nod of greeting.</p><p>The lack of physical contact was not only his preference but was also in keeping with Master Sinbad’s character.</p><p>As he did so, JARVIS made the official introductions.</p><p>“Princess Shuri of Wakanda, may I make known to you, Master Sinbad of the Order of the Mystic Arts.” JARVIS’ tone was formal, as he hid any sign of his true relationships with the pair.</p><p>“Hello,” Shuri said, a bit shyly.</p><p>“Greetings, young one,” Tony responded, keeping his smile soft. It wouldn’t do for him to scare the girl. “I understand from my acquaintances that Wakanda has been working to develop artificially created Vibranium alloys and that you are one of the experts on the project. Given my own experience with the Mystical properties of the base material, I was curious to see whether they would be maintained in such alloys. Perhaps, you might be willing to show me what you have been working on?”</p><p>Despite herself, the girl grinned. It was the smile of a scientist eager to talk about their research.</p><p>“Well,” she began “We started by looking at…”</p><p> </p><p>A thoroughly enjoyable afternoon of conversation with the young princess followed as young Shuri impressed Tony with her grasp of scientific principles and avid curiosity about the Mystic Arts.</p><p>The next few days passed in much the same manner, as Tony and the other visitors were granted a once-in-a-lifetime view of the reclusive country.</p><p>Just like the palace at its heart, Tony found the capitol city a fascinating blend of tradition and technology mixed together in a way that was distinctly different from anywhere else in the world.</p><p>And then there was the Vibranium mine itself.</p><p>There, in the heart of the meteorite crater, Tony felt surrounded by the presence of a truly <em>Ancient One</em>.</p><p>It was a humbling, awe-inspiring experience.</p><p>But as the rays of the rising sun woke Tony from his slumber, he knew that today would be a very different sort of day.</p><p>For while he and the others had been playing tourist, the Wakandans had been preparing for a trial, one that was likely to be the event of the century, if not longer. Starting this very morning, Zuri, son of Badu, and his companions would face the consequences of their treason.</p><p> </p><p>Following an excellent breakfast in his chambers, including some of the best coffee that he’d ever had, Tony made his way towards the amphitheater where the trial would be held.</p><p>In his wisdom, King T’Chaka had decided that since the conspirators had used Wakanda’s traditions of secrecy to hide their treason for so many decades, the best way to fight back would be to make their crimes public. The people needed to know how their lives and opinions had been influenced by the xenophobes who had infiltrated all levels of their government.</p><p>Given that Zuri had been the High Priest of Bast before his arrest, it was particularly important that his sins were fully exposed. Otherwise, there was a risk of him becoming a martyr to the cause, allowing the <em>Wakandan Superiority</em> movement to gain further ground.</p><p>Naturally, as a foreigner not directly involved in the trial proceedings, Master Sinbad had not been granted a place amongst the dignitaries at the front of the open-air space.</p><p>Instead, Tony used his guise of age to claim a comfortable seat midway up the risers. From there, he could not only watch the principals on display but also gain a sense of the crowd.</p><p>As the trial proceeded in a manner that was similar, and yet different, from what it would be in Tony’s home country of America, it highlighted the differences between the two cultures.</p><p>Certain things that seemed outrageous to his Western-bred sensibilities had passed without many remarks.</p><p>Others, which he had dismissed as minor complaints, generated murmurs of outrage from those seated around him.</p><p>While Nakia had built up an impressive case against the conspirators, the Wakandan man whom Zuri and his comrades had nominated to speak for them was remarkable in a different manner.</p><p>He was wise enough to recognize that there was no point in trying to claim innocence, not with the sheer volume of evidence against them. Instead, he took advantage of the rhetoric that the conspirators had spent decades embedding into Wakandan culture.</p><p>For every crime that Nakia presented, he had a justification for why it was a necessary action. He attempted to shift the blame for every catastrophe; throwing shade on outside influence, the environment, even the victims themselves. This was especially brutal in the cases where the victims were no longer amongst the living. He caused family and friends of the lost ones to be ejected from the Amphitheater for disrupting the proceedings when they grew enraged at his callous words and could no longer keep silent.</p><p> </p><p>By the end of that first day, when King T’Chaka called for a recess, things had escalated to the point that Tony began to fear for his hosts’ safety.</p><p>It seemed like the nation that, only one day before, had been at peace, was on the brink of a civil war.</p><p>Those who wanted to see Wakanda go fully public, claiming a place as a benevolent global leader on par with the Western nations faced off against those who were intent on Wakanda reclaiming their privacy, withdrawing once again from global affairs.</p><p>Then there were the ones who were so convinced of <em>Wakandan Superiority</em> that they shouted for the country to embark on a campaign of conquest, to ‘take back what was stolen from our lands’.</p><p>And all of these groups claimed with absolute certainty that their agenda was the ‘Will of Bast’.</p><p>Out of a desire to minimize his hosts’ stress, Tony chose to remain in his rooms for the evening. Instead of going down to eat in the main dining room, he enjoyed a solitary meal with only JARVIS for company.</p><p> </p><p>“JARVIS,” he commented as he finished his dinner, “I believe that we have some preparations to make.”</p><p>“Indeed,” the AI agreed.</p><p>Reaching into his bags, Tony first pulled out an anchor stone that he had covered in runic carvings.</p><p>Thanks to the Vibranium in it, Wakandan shield technology had a Mystical component that rendered his, admittedly limited, skill with portals of little help. About all that Tony could manage on his own in this environment was a single portal between two points within the city’s limits, one that would last for less than a minute. Not only that, but the portal’s destination had to be one where he had previously visited, It could either be a site that was unshielded or one that was shielded but had an anchor stone put in place at its heart.</p><p>“What do you think, J, is this a good spot for a retreat?” he asked, as he placed the small anchor stone on the floor near the suite’s entrance.</p><p>“I do believe so, Sir,” JARVIS agreed. “Particularly given the assumption that most would make; namely that the room is unoccupied.”</p><p>“Great minds…” Tony commented absently.</p><p>Picking up a section of his pack that he had left undisturbed since his arrival, he dumped its contents out onto the table.</p><p>The pack contained another dozen or so hand-carved runestones, these ones with leather thongs threaded through them so that they could be worn as pendants.</p><p>The runes on these stones had been preloaded. Some would act as temporary shields against different types of weapons, others were boosters to enhance his physical strength and acuity, and a few held a Mystical battery.</p><p>The runestone pendants were meant to supplement the sling rings that Tony, as Master Sinbad, had been wearing throughout the trip.</p><p>While sling rings were known in certain circles as an identifier for members of the Order of the Mystic Arts, the intricacies of their use were not Tony’s forte. He would still carry them, as they helped in portal creation, but he preferred to instead supplement his strength with his runestones.</p><p>Beyond the purely Mystical weapons, Tony had also brought a set of knives that he had picked out from Loki’s hoard.</p><p>The magic that his Master had imbued in their hearts had meshed well with Tony’s magic, making them an excellent tool in his arsenal. There were a pair of short blades that would be strapped on each of Tony’s forearms, and a third, longer blade that would be tucked into the outside of his left boot.</p><p>Finally, Tony grabbed the staff that he had been using as a cane; a part of the character of Master Sinbad.</p><p>The runes carved into the length of its surface acted as a secondary anchor for that illusion, making it easier on his magic to maintain. Even if one discarded its Mystical benefits, a nice, sturdy piece of wood would be an excellent weapon in case a brawl broke out.</p><p>“What do you think, baby boy, will that be enough?” he asked, waving at the table with a tiny smirk.</p><p>“I certainly hope so, Sir. But then, we are used to such hopes being disappointed, are we not?”</p><p>“Tru dat, J-dog,” Tony agreed. “Even with all of my new toys, I do miss the solidity of a holster with one of our guns in it. That was one thing that I did enjoy doing with Dad, our little trips to the gun range.”</p><p>JARVIS remained silent, choosing not to comment as Tony reminisced.</p><p>“Of course, what I failed to appreciate when I was a kid was that most of those trips coincided with another threat letter arriving in Dad’s office or another kidnapping attempt being thwarted by his people. Good times… good times…”</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Tony rose well before the trial was set to re-start, wanting to give himself enough time to prepare.</p><p>First, he dressed himself with care.</p><p>Setting aside the outer robes that had helped reinforce the illusion of Master Sinbad; he pulled on a simple tunic and pants, which allowed him to move freely. Despite the warm weather, his feet were shod in a pair of comfortable, sturdy boots, their stiff leather providing excellent protection against minor impacts as well as a sheath for his primary blade.</p><p>From there, he added his weapons.</p><p>Amulets were slung around his neck one at a time and then tucked away from view inside of his tunic’s collar. Reinforced leather sheaths were strapped around his forearms like gauntlets before the corresponding blades were tucked into place and the loose sleeves of the tunic were allowed to slide down; hiding them from view. A simplified sling ring went onto his right ring finger, its form less obvious than the ones that he had been wearing all week.</p><p>Instead, those bulky rings, which looked more like knuckle dusters for his index and pointer fingers than anything, were tucked into a pocket.</p><p>Finally, once he had finished dressing and arming himself, Tony added a fresh illusion, anchoring it to one of the unused amulets.</p><p>Instead of Master Sinbad or one of his other aliases, this time he chose the visage of an anonymous Wakandan citizen, one who could stand amongst the crowd at the trial without comment.</p><p>Picking up the staff that he had left leaning near the suit’s main door, Tony headed out into the fray.</p><p> </p><p>At the end of the hall, a pair of Dora stood guard over the Royal family’s guests. As he approached them, Tony pulled one of his sling rings out, letting them know who he actually was under the illusion.</p><p>“Just in case,” he said to one of them.</p><p>The woman, who had been introduced to him as Ayo, nodded. “A wise precaution,” she agreed easily.</p><p>As he walked away, he noticed her fiddling with her Kimoyo Beads. No doubt she was sending a copy of his current appearance out to her companions on-site.</p><p>Tony had no objection. He knew that the Dora would be allies if a fight broke out. Working together would be easier if he didn’t have to identify himself every time.</p><p>There were few people in the halls as Tony made his way towards the door out into the city. Those who he did see were clearly tense and on edge, and all of them were visibly carrying weapons.</p><p>Stepping out into the sun, Tony was surprised to find that, unlike the palace corridors, the city streets were thronged with people. Everyone seemed to be going about their day, just as they had every morning since his arrival.</p><p>Perhaps the tension that he had seen was localized to the palace?</p><p>But, after a moment, Tony realized that his first impression was false.</p><p>While there were people out, it was not the same sort of people as he had seen before. Instead of the crowds of elders, women carrying shopping bags and children running and playing, those on the streets that morning were mature, able-bodied men and women, well-prepared for a fight.</p><p>And they weren’t wandering between the stores and outdoor stalls, browsing.</p><p>No, they were forming up into groups all headed in the same general direction, towards the public amphitheater.</p><p>In contrast to the hubbub from the previous days, the streets were hushed despite the crowds. People walked on tenterhooks, ready for action at the slightest hint of provocation.</p><p> </p><p>When he reached the amphitheater, Tony was unsurprised to find an increased guard at every public entrance.</p><p>These guard teams, made up of Dora, War Dogs, and warriors dressed in the same garb as those guarding the border, were on the lookout for weapons. It was a requirement that all such items were temporarily tagged and confiscated, prior to entry into the amphitheater’s stands.</p><p>The catalog of Vibranium-enhanced weapons on display when Tony reached the nearest entrance was impressive. He saw a variety of bladed weapons, knives of multiple lengths, swords, pikes and spears, as well as ones that shot projectiles, whether solid or energy-based.</p><p>If it weren’t for the severity of the situation, he would have been tempted to try and get a closer look. But not today, not with what was going on around him.</p><p>As he approached the guards, Tony managed to subtly make eye contact with one of them. Then he pulled his sling ring out just enough for her to catch a glint of gold.</p><p>It was enough.</p><p>Her eyes darted down, checked something displayed on the screen projected by her beads, and then she gave a nod of her own.</p><p>
  <em>Message received.</em>
</p><p>After confiscating his only visible weapon, his staff, to add to the weapons collection, she handed him a “ticket”. It was a claim that he could use, upon exiting the venue, to reclaim his property.</p><p>There was a second sheet tucked in with the ticket, a map of the amphitheater with a dot in red about halfway up the far left side of the audience area.</p><p>
  <em>My assigned position. Got it.</em>
</p><p>Without looking back, Tony strode forward into the crowd, pushing his way towards his assigned spot.</p><p>Along the way, he noticed that he was hardly the only person who had managed to smuggle a weapon past the guards. There were far too many hard objects hidden under robes, as seen when clothes were tugged in odd directions or felt when collisions occurred, and people walking with strange gaits or holding their bodies in odd positions for anything else.</p><p>It took a bit of shoving, but Tony eventually managed to make his way to his designated spot.</p><p>From that vantage, he could see both the principals at the front and the majority of the crowd. That his position happened to put him beside one of the armored Dora, as well as one of Amira’s former ex-pats, was an additional benefit.</p><p>
  <em>Guaranteed allies in a fight were of the good.</em>
</p><p>Tony had just finished exchanging greetings with the pair, making sure that they knew who ‘he’ was, when King T’Chaka stepped out into the front of the amphitheater.</p><p>With a nod to the other seated members of the King’s Council, the deciding parties in the trial, he made an announcement. Maintaining his sober mien, he said, “May the Wisdom of Bast be granted to us all on this difficult day.”</p><p>From there he handed control over to the ‘prosecution’.</p><p>While an older, white-haired gentleman stood as the head of that group, it was Nakia, as the lead investigator, who had presented the previous day’s evidence and would continue in the same manner that morning.</p><p>“People of Wakanda,” she announced, “during the first session of this trial, we discussed some of the outrages that those on trial perpetrated against their fellow citizens, all in the name of their self-proclaimed ‘cause’.”</p><p>“In today’s session, I will start with a matter that is both similar to and distinctly different from the crimes which I have presented in the past. For this crime was not just against a fellow citizen. No, this particular sin affected members of the Royal Panther Tribe.”</p><p>Apparently, that was a key point with cultural implications that went over Tony’s head, because the crowd gasped.</p><p>“The year was 1992. Prince N’Jobu, the younger son of King Azzuri the Wise, was on a long-term mission as a War Dog. He was embedded into the Black community in Southern California, in the United States of America, where he was charged with oversight of the emerging racial tension present in that region. But then, tragedy struck as a series of violent race riots led to chaos in that part of the world.”</p><p>“Out of concern for his brother, King T’Chaka sent in a second War Dog. That agent was to keep his true identity a secret from the Prince, but still to act as a support for his overall mission. But something went wrong. Prince N’Jobu, in his cover as an African American man named Nathan Stevens, broke faith with his people. He offered up information to a notorious weapons dealer, a man named Ulysses Klaue, which led to the man’s successful attack and theft of Vibranium from our people.”</p><p>With that statement, Nakia paused, giving time for her statement to be processed. </p><p>The revelation had many in the audience shouting in shock or pale in horror at the thought of one of the Royals acting in such a manner. Tony fought the ridiculous urge to giggle. He had to admit that he was impressed with Nakia’s ability as an orator. She certainly knew how to grab people’s attention.</p><p>As the crowd calmed, Nakia resumed her tale.</p><p>“Or so King T’Chaka was led to believe.… But the truth. Well, the truth was far more complicated. It took a considerable amount of digging, but my team eventually managed to piece together a fuller picture of what happened.”</p><p>“To do so, we have to step back a decade…”</p><p>And, using great skill in story-telling, Nakia proceeded to paint a compelling picture. A story of two brothers betrayed, death, tragedy, and a young boy left orphaned.</p><p>“And why did our second War Dog commit such treason? The answer to that question is the one thing that my people were unable to ascertain, though we do have our suspicions. Perhaps you would care to enlighten us… Zuri.”</p><p>Nakia finished her speech by looking the older Wakandan square in the eyes. Even from a distance, Tony could see that she was furious and that Zuri was nervous.</p><p>Silence fell over the entire amphitheater, as people waited for the defense to respond.</p><p>After a moment, the spokesman from the previous day stood, as if preparing to respond. But before he could do so, a figure stepped out of the shadows off to the side of the room.</p><p>Dressed in the traditional garb of Wakanda’s Black Panther, his features were hidden from view behind a mask. Tony had caught a glimpse of him earlier and had assumed that it was Prince T’Challa inside the suit.</p><p>Now, though, he wasn’t so sure.</p><p>This panther’s movements were... different... from the ones that Tony had seen in the videos from JARVIS. More sensual somehow…</p><p>When he reached the center of the stage, the masked figure stopped.</p><p>“No. Let Zuri answer for himself,” he said tightly, and many in the crowd yelled their agreement.</p><p>Though he had appeared reluctant to speak, Zuri’s first words didn’t show it.</p><p>“People of Wakanda,” he said in a pious tone. “May the blessings of Bast be upon all who have come to this place. May she grant the Council the wisdom to recognize the truth of my words.”</p><p>
  <em>Ugh. </em>
</p><p>Zuri’s smug paternalistic tone was far too reminiscent of Obie for Tony’s comfort. This man had no right to speak in such a manner, especially not in this situation.</p><p>“From my youth, I have served the will of Bast in all that I say and do. You all have seen her will in my many years of service as a priest of our blessed Panther Goddess. But now our very way of life is under attack. This farce, masquerading as a trial, is nothing more than an excuse. The forces of the demon Hanuman seek to tear us asunder.”</p><p>
  <em>Religious rhetoric, of course. What else could Zuri possibly use to justify his actions?</em>
</p><p>From his place on the stage, the masked Black Panther growled, but Tony could see a surprisingly large percentage of the audience nodding in agreement with Zuri’s words.</p><p>“This tale which my young colleague has just presented is, in fact, just that, a story. One that takes certain truths, my time assisting Prince N’Jobu’s mission, and constructs a false narrative to fit their agenda.”</p><p>Once again, the Black Panther growled, along with others in the audience. But Zuri wasn’t finished speaking.</p><p>“Now, I do not believe that young Nakia herself is a part of this villainy. No, she has merely been misled by others, more unscrupulous than she.”</p><p>Here Zuri’s tone veered once more towards the paternalistic, even condescending.</p><p><em>Gaslighting prick, </em>Tony thought, fuming. <em>The only misleading happening here is by you and your people. Just like Obie used to…</em></p><p>Tony shook off the thought. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by his own demons, not now.</p><p>“No one has the right to judge me guilty based on hearsay and conjectures. I challenge those who accuse me to provide proof.” Zuri folded his arms, smug. Meanwhile, the masked man across the space from him paced and growled. </p><p>“Calm yourself, T’Challa,” Zuri added, “your blind support of your ex-girlfriend is unbecoming of your place as the Black Panther, the Goddess’ avatar on this plane.”</p><p>A voice came from off stage.</p><p>“Perhaps you are right, Zuri.”</p><p>The crowd gasped as Prince T’Challa stepped out of the same shadows where the Black Panther had emerged, claiming a place at Nakia’s side.</p><p>“I would be doing the Goddess a disservice if I had acted in such a manner. But I am not the Black Panther right now. No, given the situation I have temporarily ceded the position to another. It is he who stands as your accuser, as is his right.”</p><p>From his place in the stands, Tony began to grin. He realized who was behind the mask.</p><p><em>Oh, that is perfect, </em>he thought with glee.</p><p>It seemed that Zuri was starting to clue in as well, as his face paled.</p><p>“No. It can’t be…” he whispered.</p><p>The very same acoustics that made his earlier speech so impressive made the quiet words carry.</p><p>“What?” The mystery man asked. Reaching up, he pulled the mask of the Black Panther from his face. “Because I’m dead? You certainly tried hard enough to make that happen.”</p><p>N’Jakada turned, showing the shark-like grin on his face to the crowd.</p><p>Then he added, “hello, Uncle James.”</p><p>Now without the mask, N’Jakada stalked forward until he stood at the center of the stage.</p><p>“I am Prince N’Jakada, the son of Prince N’Jobu, and I can confirm the full truth of my colleague’s tale. I may have been a child back then, but one does not forget something like that. Zuri, son of Badu, may claim to have acted on Wakanda’s behalf, but I still remember how he spoke of my mother, and what he told me before he left me to my fate.”</p><p> “Shut up, half-breed,” Zuri yelled, panic audible in his voice.</p><p>“And there it is,” N’Jakada said easily, “your real opinion. That of a xenophobic bigot. What must the goddess think, that such a man could be named as her High Priest?”</p><p>Turning fully towards where Zuri stood, N’Jakada began to move in his direction.</p><p>As he did so, something… strange… began to happen. Another figure overlaid his stalking form. It was a massive, shadowy Black Panther, its size on all fours such that its head lay directly over N’Jakada’s.</p><p>When Tony activated his Mage Sight, he could <em>See</em> the figure more clearly.</p><p>It was not an illusion, but rather the bleed-through of an extra-planar entity.</p><p>
  <em>Bast.</em>
</p><p>As he approached the table where Zuri and his co-conspirators sat, N’Jakada spoke again.</p><p>“Zuri, son of Badu, in your fear and pride, you and your fellows have violated the agreement which was once made between the goddess and her chosen people.”</p><p>A sultry female voice overlaid N’Jakada’s, its power reverberating deep in Tony’s bones. Around him, many fell to their knees, crying out in fear and trembling.</p><p>“The Black Panther and his people stand as guardians over the part of the goddess which fell to earth, and in exchange were granted permission to utilize the gifts that came from that resource. Instead, you have turned the goddess’ gift into a right, one which you dare to claim as your own personal property.”</p><p>By this point, everyone in the amphitheater had gone down to their knees, including those who had been seated on the stage. The only person who remained on their feet was N’Jakada, in his place as the host for the goddess’ avatar.</p><p>“Wakanda’s people are not limited to those who are descended from those who made the original bargain. No. Any who accept the charge may become one of the goddess’ warriors, even those who come from beyond the tribes.”</p><p>From the shadows near the back of the amphitheater, a group of figures emerged, pushing their way through the kneeling crowd. Unlike the bright colors of the rest of the Wakandans, these men were dressed in whites and neutrals, including layers of furs. Their faces were covered with dark masks, each in the shape of a monkey’s face.</p><p>As they moved, they chanted, their words beyond Tony’s comprehension.</p><p>Unlike the modern version of the language, which he had managed to pick up a decent amount of fluency in, this form of Wakandan was archaic.</p><p>Thankfully, he did have JARVIS in his ear.</p><p>“They are praising the goddess Bast and her consort Hanuman, and proclaiming their obedience to their long-ago promises.” JARVIS translated.</p><p>When the chanting warriors reached the stage, their leader stepped up to N’Jakada’s side, taking off his mask as he did so.</p><p>“My lady,” he said, dropping to one knee. “Hanuman’s warriors stand ready to aid you in your vengeance.”</p><p>“Be at peace, loyal guardians,” N’Jakada (Bast) said. “While it is good to see the warriors of my beloved have held to their promises, my justice demands a different manner of punishment.”</p><p>“People of Wakanda, the time has come for you to claim your place. Stand guard over the gifts which you have been granted, and know that your charge is not limited to this land alone. No, your charge extends beyond your borders and out into the full expanse of this globe.”</p><p>“But be cautious in your approach. You are not called to be conquerors. Nor are you to see yourself as above all others. Instead, you are called upon to be an example. Help to guide the earth into a new era of peace and harmony. For the time is coming when the fate of the Universe will depend on the Defenders of the Earth.”</p><p>By this point in her speech, N’Jakada had fallen away, taking a knee like the rest.</p><p>Instead, the massive panther overlay had turned into a regal woman, one who stood over ten feet tall and towered over everyone on the stage.</p><p>Turning her attention back to Zuri and his co-conspirators, she made one final statement.</p><p>“Justice calls for your punishment, but I declare that the fate you most deserve is to live. To be forced to watch as all of your schemes and plans are overthrown. So I have spoken.”</p><p>“And so it shall be,” King T’Chaka said, speaking for the first time since he opened the session. “Blessed be Bast, the great Panther Goddess of Wakanda.”</p><p>“Blessed be,” everyone else in the amphitheater echoed.</p><p>Bast nodded her head in acknowledgment, before fading out of the view of most in the auditorium. But Tony, his sight still enhanced, realized that she had yet to depart. Instead, she turned and looked directly at him.</p><p>“Anthony Stark,” she said, her words for him alone. “You who have claimed many titles. Genius, inventor, Merchant of Death, victim, prisoner, Sorcerer, seeker of vengeance. You have the potential for greatness, to be a leader in the defense of the Earth. But what will you choose? Only you can decide. Make sure that you do so wisely.”</p><p>With her cryptic advice given, she finished fading, her primary consciousness departing the mortal plane.</p><p>Once she had disappeared, Tony shook his head, rousing himself from the stupor in which he, and from the looks of it everyone around him, had fallen.</p><p>Up on the stage, he could see the guards hustling Zuri and his collaborators out, no doubt before some zealous individual could violate Bast’s order by attacking. It seemed that his time in Wakanda was coming to an end.</p><p> </p><p>With matters wrapping up in Africa, Tony made his way back to New York and the Sanctum. His experience in Wakanda had left him cautious, yet hungrier than ever to see the fruits of his own plans for revenge.</p><p>Things with Stane were already in motion, helped along by Killian and his people, but he wasn’t the only person on Tony’s list. He still had Fury, SHIELD, and General Thaddeus Ross. </p><p>JARVIS had managed to confirm Hammer’s claim that Ross had been involved in the series of betrayals that had landed Tony in SHIELD’s oubliette. Unlike with Stane, Ross’ betrayal wasn’t personal. It seemed that Tony had just been in the way of the man’s agenda or at least his plans for one Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes.</p><p>Rhodey, or rather his alter ego of the Iron Soldier, had become quite the feather in the General’s cap. Ross had managed to parlay his former subordinate’s successes, amongst other things, into a high-level Pentagon position. Like Stane, he had managed to weather the SHIELD disaster remarkably well, despite his public link to that organization.</p><p>In fact, Ross’ continuing alliance with Director Fury had helped both men. Together, the pair had managed to find new victories in a closer public relationship post-HYDRA reveal.</p><p>But, Ross also had a rather massive weakness.</p><p>It seemed that Ross had a passion for ‘building a better soldier’, a drive that had him cozying up to both AIM and Fury, amongst others.</p><p>He had been one of the early proponents for the Extremis project, though he had distanced himself once it was clear that Extremis’ early promise wouldn’t yield immediate results. The idea of rapid healing via mutation was a tempting prospect for the soldier in him. Of course, the fact that he had withdrawn his approval had also put him in Killian’s sights. Tony was certain that, like Stane, Ross would have ended up a target in Killian’s Mandarin scheme had it actually come to fruition.</p><p>Meanwhile, his alliance with SHIELD came with other benefits. Ross had access to the Iron Soldier, SHIELD’s science department, and perhaps most importantly from his perspective, a direct line to the ultimate Super-Soldier success story, Captain America.</p><p>For all of Ross’ successes, he also had one VERY dirty little secret.</p><p>The HULK project.</p><p>While going through the information that he and JARVIS had collected, Tony realized that he had had a vision of Ross during the Convergence. Ross was the General that he had seen threatening a prisoner, a man that he also identified as Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk.</p><p>It seemed that Banner was a kindred spirit, one whose suffering had surpassed Tony’s own struggles. To be betrayed by one’s own mind and body, and then to be hunted for it… And then, once you finally find some control and purpose, to have that stripped away by the same unscrupulous bastard who had caused the whole thing…</p><p>Tony shuddered.</p><p> </p><p>“Kae,” he called, glancing up from the tablet that he had been using for his research, “are you up for another field trip?”</p><p>Looking up from his own reading, in this case, one of the books that Tony had retrieved from his mentor’s lair in the Arctic Circle, Kaecilius offered his lover a sharp smile.</p><p>“Oh, are you inviting me along this time, instead of gallivanting off on your own?”</p><p>“Don’t be like that, babe,” Tony replied.</p><p>He had neglected to inform Kaecilius, who had been off on an extended mission with the Ancient One, a visit with one of their extra-planar allies, before his visit to Wakanda. The older Sorcerer had returned to New York just in time to learn of Tony’s trip, without any bodyguards, into the heart of Africa.</p><p>It wasn’t the first time that Tony had acted impulsively, without concern for his own safety, in his quest for revenge, whether for himself or others.</p><p>Tony knew that it was a bad habit; one that Kaecilius and others were working to break. Independence was ingrained into his psyche, one that had been built from childhood. Help was something that only came on special occasions, not every day.</p><p>So, Kaecilius had turned to sarcasm as a means of reinforcement.</p><p>“I promised that I would work on keeping you and the others informed, didn’t I?” Tony whined.</p><p>Setting aside his book, Kaecilius nodded.</p><p>“Tell me then, dearest, what is this new location that you would like to visit?”</p><p>In response, Tony pushed a button on his tablet, linking it to the holographic projector along one side of the room.</p><p>“My darling magic man, riddle me this? What happens when you cross gamma radiation, the Super Soldier serum, and an ambitious Army General?”</p><p>On the projected screen, a jolly green giant roared.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. An Extraordinary Prisoner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Point-of-View Character: the Hulk, Dr. Bruce Banner’s Alter-Ego</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>An Extraordinary Prisoner</h1>
<p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p>From his place seated on the hard floor of a large, windowless room, Hulk growled.</p>
<p>“Hulk not like this place,” he said, “Puny Bruce stupid, making Hulk stay.”</p>
<p>Eyeing the large dip in the floor in front of him, the mark of a previous punch, Hulk considered a repetition for a moment. Then, he shrugged. It wouldn’t make him feel any better.</p>
<p>In the months since Puny Bruce had disappeared, leaving Hulk here alone, he had gotten used to frustration. If it weren’t for the promise that he made long ago, to protect Betty, he would have broken out long ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Angry Ross had stormed in, carrying clothes covered with Betty’s blood, from his place deep inside Puny Bruce’s mind, Hulk had been confused.</p>
<p>Hulk had been careful.</p>
<p>
  <em>Not hurt Betty when Angry Ross and his Stupid Soldiers made Hulk come out to protect Puny Bruce. Not even make a big mess, just a little one. Hulk only smash things that hurt Puny Bruce.</em>
</p>
<p>Now, Angry Ross was yelling at Puny Bruce, telling him that Hulk had killed Pretty Betty.</p>
<p>Hulk knew that Pretty Betty was fine. He could smell her, the scent fresh on Angry Ross, especially on the bruise that spread across his cheek.</p>
<p>Pretty Betty had hit Angry Ross.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hulk loved Pretty Betty for that alone.</em>
</p>
<p>But Puny Bruce was stupid. He believed Angry Ross’ words. So, he got very sad.</p>
<p>The next time that Angry Ross and his Stupid Soldiers let Puny Bruce back in one of the rooms with all of the machines, he did something even more stupid than usual.</p>
<p>Puny Bruce collected nasty liquid from the box and put it in a cup.</p>
<p>“Hulk, if you can hear me in there, I don’t want to come back,” he said. “Just let me stay buried.”</p>
<p>Then, he drank the nasty liquid down.</p>
<p>Hulk could feel the nasty liquid burn as it poured down Puny Bruce’s throat.</p>
<p>Before it could hurt him further, Hulk pushed his way out. Hulk’s stomach was too tough to get hurt, not like Puny Bruce’s.</p>
<p>He emerged in the machine room with a roar, smashing all of the stupid things.</p>
<p>
  <em>If Puny Bruce didn’t want to be out, then Hulk would go find his own place. Away from Angry Ross and the Stupid Soldiers.</em>
</p>
<p>He smashed his way through Angry Ross’ place, punching the Stupid Soldiers with a roar whenever they tried to stop him.</p>
<p>Hulk had reached the exit when Pretty Betty arrived. She was a bit ruffled, but otherwise just fine.</p>
<p>“Stupid Puny Bruce,” Hulk grumbled, “told him Pretty Betty fine.”</p>
<p>“That’s right, Hulk, I am fine,” Betty agreed. “Now, what do you say you let Bruce come back out,” she said calmly.</p>
<p>Hulk growled. “Puny Bruce no come back,” he said. “Hulk promised.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“Angry Ross tell Puny Bruce that Hulk make Pretty Betty dead,” Hulk replied.</p>
<p>“Really?!?”</p>
<p>Pretty Betty’s voice went high and tight. Turning to Angry Ross, she punched him, hard.</p>
<p>Hulk impressed.</p>
<p>
  <em>Pretty Betty even better than Hulk think. Smarter than Puny Bruce too.</em>
</p>
<p>“How could you!” she yelled. “You knew that was the one thing that Bruce feared most. And you also knew that was the one thing that Hulk would not do.”</p>
<p>
  <em>See. Pretty Betty know Hulk good.</em>
</p>
<p>Angry Ross snarled, “well, in that case…”</p>
<p>He waved two of his men over, taking hold of Pretty Betty’s arms.</p>
<p>“Listen to me, Hulk. You will stay here, or I will order them to hurt your precious Betty.”</p>
<p>Hulk roared, but didn’t move. He knew that there was no way to get to Betty before Angry Ross or the Stupid Soldiers did something.</p>
<p>It seemed that Angry Ross knew that Hulk understood his message.</p>
<p>Turning to his soldiers, he gestured to the Hulk.</p>
<p>“Take that… Beast… back to his cell. And escort my daughter to her own… quarters.”</p>
<p>Hulk snarled, but let the Stupid Soldiers herd him back into the middle of the building.</p>
<p>Once there, he was <em>encouraged</em> to go into a large, empty room with no windows, only a single large metal door.</p>
<p>The door closed behind him with a thud, and then a clunk as its locking mechanism engaged.</p>
<p>Hulk knew he could get out of there, but not before Angry Ross hurt Betty. He slammed his fist down into the floor, leaving a large dip.</p>
<p>“Stupid Puny Bruce, Stupid Angry Ross, Stupid Hulk…” he growled.</p>
<p>He slumped against the wall, knowing that there was nothing more that he could do.</p>
<p>Hulk had promised Puny Bruce that he would protect Betty long ago, back when Hulk was still new.</p>
<p>
  <em>And protecting Pretty Betty mattered, even if Puny Bruce was gone.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And so Hulk had remained.</p>
<p>Even when Angry Ross and his Stupid Soldiers had tried stupid things to get Hulk upset, Hulk had refused to act.</p>
<p>He also refused to do anything except what Betty asked, which meant that Angry Ross kept Betty around, and safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But now, there were strange sounds coming from outside of Hulk’s room. Yells and screams and lots of stupid stingers going off. Hulk growled.</p>
<p>
  <em>Betty better not be getting hurt out there, or Hulk would smash like he had never smashed before.</em>
</p>
<p>Not wanting to risk Betty, not when he wasn’t sure where she was, Hulk roared.</p>
<p>Apparently, his roar was quite loud, because, for just a moment, all the fighting sounds went quiet. But then, then they picked up even more.</p>
<p>Hulk was about to smash through the puny door that kept him inside when something finally began to happen.</p>
<p>Golden sparkles appeared near the big door. They were nice and shiny and circled around the door for a moment.</p>
<p>Then, the door disappeared.</p>
<p>Afterward, new men looked through the opening that was left behind when the door went away.</p>
<p>They didn’t smell scared of Hulk, not like Angry Ross and his Stupid Soldiers.</p>
<p>Instead, they smelled more like Betty, or like the Tin Man who had helped him to fight the lizard men.</p>
<p>Hulk liked that fight. It was a good memory. Hulk got to smash without getting in trouble from Puny Bruce afterward.</p>
<p>Still, there were more important questions.</p>
<p>“Betty,” he growled.</p>
<p>“Aw, shit. You talk!? I mean, of course, you talk. I knew old Ross was blowing smoke when he called you a beast.”</p>
<p>The leader of the men talked too fast for Hulk to get everything. But it didn’t sound like threats.</p>
<p>So Hulk tried again.</p>
<p>“Where Betty?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Betty?” The man looked confused for a second. “Oh, you mean Dr. Elizabeth Ross?”</p>
<p>“Betty,” Hulk agreed.</p>
<p>“She’s here? I thought that her father didn’t want her anywhere near the Hulk project? Hang on, big guy, I’ll check.”</p>
<p>Leader guy waved a hand, and several of his men disappeared from Hulk’s view.</p>
<p>“I have to admit, I was expecting to see your mild-mannered alter ego in here,” the strange man said. “I wouldn’t have thought that this compound would be enough to keep you from escaping.”</p>
<p>Hulk grunted.</p>
<p>“Angry Ross have Betty,” he said.</p>
<p>“Ah, got it. That would explain why the good General was willing to let his daughter remain here. Control over the Hulk would be more important than his daughter’s safety.”</p>
<p>
  <em>What did strange man mean?  </em>
</p>
<p>“Hulk no hurt Betty!”</p>
<p>“Of course not, big guy. But that’s how Ross thinks.”</p>
<p>Another grunt.</p>
<p>“Ross stupid.”</p>
<p>“He sure is.”</p>
<p>Hulk sat in silence for a moment, before he heard something. A strange voice in the leader man’s ear mentioned Betty.</p>
<p>Hulk perked up.</p>
<p>“Betty?” he asked eagerly.</p>
<p>“Heard that, did you?” The leader man said. “Looks like my boo has located your girlfriend, and boy does she sound like she’s pissed.”</p>
<p>“Betty okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah bud, Betty’s just fine. She’s on her way here now.”</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>Gold sparks appeared again, but this time, instead of breaking through a door, they created one.</p>
<p>Hulk leaned his head to the side.</p>
<p><em>How they do that? </em>He wondered.</p>
<p>But then Betty stepped through, and he didn’t care anymore.</p>
<p>He rushed over to Betty’s side, touching her and smelling her to make sure that she wasn’t hurt.</p>
<p>While there were plenty of bad scents around her; fear, anger, frustration, even the nasty smell of the stupid sting things, Hulk couldn’t smell Betty’s blood.</p>
<p>She wasn’t hurt.</p>
<p>
  <em>Good.</em>
</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Betty was doing her own checks.</p>
<p>She ran her hands through his hair, touching his skin gently.</p>
<p>It had been a long time since they had physical contact. Usually, when Angry Ross let Hulk see Betty, there was glass in between them.</p>
<p>But not now.</p>
<p>Hulk wrapped Betty in his arms before standing up.</p>
<p>Angry Ross wasn’t taking Betty away again.</p>
<p>“Okay, then.”</p>
<p>The strange leader man spoke.</p>
<p>He had been joined by another stranger, one who also carried that same odd undertone in their scent. It was the same smell that he had noticed in the sparkles, along with a buzz that could be felt along the surface of his skin. In fact, all of the strangers had that same feel, though some were stronger than others.</p>
<p>“What exactly is going on here?” Betty asked.</p>
<p>Hulk rumbled in pleasure.</p>
<p>
  <em>Betty would get the answers that they needed.</em>
</p>
<p>“Doctor Ross,” the strange man said, “I have to admit that it is an unexpected pleasure to see you again.”</p>
<p>“Please, call me Betty. I refuse to be associated with my father in any way. And again?” Betty sounded confused, for a moment, before her scent sparked with the smell of surprised pleasure. “Wait a minute? Tony Stark? But you’re dead?”</p>
<p>There was a whiff of bitter rage from the stranger, though it didn’t seem to be targeted towards Hulk or Betty.</p>
<p>
  <em>Good.</em>
</p>
<p>“I am afraid, Madam Betty, that rumor of my death was slightly exaggerated. No thanks to the General, as well as others.”</p>
<p>“I see…” Betty said. “Then this little attack on the General’s base was…”</p>
<p>The strange… <em>friend…?</em> gave Hulk’s Betty a one-sided smile before he spoke again.</p>
<p>“I want revenge on everyone involved in my ‘death’, and I had hoped to recruit Dr. Banner to my team. Speaking of, any chance that I could speak to him instead of his greener half?”</p>
<p>Hulk could smell the sour tang of Betty’s grief, one which he recognized.</p>
<p>It appeared every time that she thought of Puny Bruce.</p>
<p>He growled a warning at the stranger.</p>
<p>From her place in the cradle of his arms, Betty reached up and patted his cheek.</p>
<p>“It’s okay Hulk. I just miss him, that’s all.”</p>
<p>Then, she turned back to the man.</p>
<p>“I am afraid, Mister Stark, that you are too late. My father, may he be damned for all eternity, finally managed what he had been attempting for years. He killed Bruce.”</p>
<p>Strange man looked at Hulk, confused, and Betty continued.</p>
<p>“He convinced poor Bruce that he had caused my death, which resulted in Bruce attempting suicide. Hulk managed to keep Bruce’s body from dying, but it seems that his consciousness is gone. All that is left is the Hulk.”</p>
<p>“That bastard,” the strange man said, his voice holding a hint of his own growl. “Well then, Doctor Betty, I believe that we will have to adjust our plans a bit. Allow me instead to invite you and Hulk here to join my people in destroying this place. Then, you both are welcome to join us. I offer you a haven from harm. I am certain that the Order would be more than willing to protect you, right, Magic Man?”</p>
<p>The other man, the one who had brought Betty through the strange gold door sighed, but nodded his agreement.</p>
<p>“I suppose that we could find room for them,” he said. “And having the Hulk rampage through this compound would be a good cover for our own activities.”</p>
<p>“Right. Now then, Hulk, Doctor Betty, what do you say? Want to join our motley crew?”</p>
<p>Hulk looked down at Betty. He didn’t understand everything that was happening, but he would follow Betty wherever she wanted to go.</p>
<p>Betty laid her hand on his face once more, before she turned back to the strangers.</p>
<p>“We’re in,” she said.</p>
<p>“Excellent.”</p>
<p>Betty shifted in Hulk’s arms, a non-verbal indication that she wanted to be let down.</p>
<p>Hulk grumbled, but he set her onto her feet.</p>
<p>“Now, Hulk, I need you to do something for me.”</p>
<p>“Protect Betty?”</p>
<p>“Not quite. You see these men,” she gestured towards the gathered strangers. “They have promised to keep me safe. While they do so, I need you to do something else.”</p>
<p>Her soft smile turned sharp, as she gestured towards his old room.</p>
<p>“Hulk. Smash.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I really hated the "merge" that the MCU did as a supposed fix for the Hulk in Endgame, and I wanted to explore the idea of Hulk as a separate person from Bruce (ala the Planet Hulk comics or Thor Ragnarok). This epilogue sets things up for me to do so in the next book.<br/>Final End Note: <em>Doing minor edits and reposting on AO3 was the perfect way to get me inspired to work on the next (and hopefully final) part of this series.<br/></em></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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